


Just a Doll

by TiBun, Xenobia



Series: Death's Doll [2]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Bizarre Dolls, Bottom Ronald, Drama & Romance, Lemon, M/M, Main original character, Male OC - Freeform, Religion, Religious Conflict, Romance, Top Undertaker, Top William, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:45:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 152,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiBun/pseuds/TiBun, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xenobia/pseuds/Xenobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Late one cold, snowy evening, Undertaker happens across yet another dying human. It was nothing special, but the circumstances surrounding this death grabs his attention. So, rather than ignoring the human, he wondered if he could make a living person into one of his Bizarre Dolls. After all, he was already dying, anyway, and really, there would be no harm in experimenting...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written RP-style. Xenobia as Undertaker, William, and Eric. TiBun as Jase, Alan, and Ronald. Grell is passed between the two of us as needed.
> 
> This has been translated into German!   
> https://www.fanfiktion.de/s/5884bd6d000351b86e44b4d/1/Just-a-Doll
> 
> Disclaimer: We do not own any recognizable characters and only explore the possibilities.
> 
> OC Jase Dubois Copyrighted to TiBun.
> 
> Note from TiBun:  
> Some of you may know that I have been talking about my Kuro OC lately. Well, This is him. Jase Dubois. I won't say much about him here as you'll learn about him as you read, but I do hope you like him! I rarely actually ask my readers to review. After all, though I love reading comments and replying to them, people will comment if they want to. However, with this particular Fic I would really like to know what you guys think. Jase being a main character makes me a little nervous (But very excited). I haven't featured an OC in this way since I was new to Fanfics and was writing Mary-sues. (Ahhh don't ask about that! its a dark time I'd rather forget.) Anyway. Please comment/review with your thoughts on my OC, if nothing else. (Though comments about the plot and events and Undertaker are all very welcome as well!)

****

_Cover Art by[K-Koji](http://k-koji.deviantart.com/)_

The evening air was bitter as fresh snow slowly fell, blanketing the mostly empty streets of London. The young priest, new to the priesthood, could see his breath even within the walls of the church as he put out the flames that flickered and slowly melted the red wax of the candles. He wasn't one to complain; but he was anxious to get back to his room and light a fire in the hearth, curl up on his simple bed and read over a few passages in his Bible.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the heavy doors to the chapel creaking open suddenly, almost slamming open, and successfully catching the priest's attention. He spun around in time to see a woman slump to the floor. Quickly, Jase ran over to her, picking her up and guiding her over to sit on a pew. "My child, are you alright?"

The woman shivered and looked up at him, her hair falling out of her blood splattered face. Her appearance shocked Jase, and his hand jerked back from her shoulder.

"I fear… I will not survive this night… they are coming." The woman coughed.

"Dear child, you are safe now. You are in the house of God. You have sanctuary."

The woman laughed, "Oh, poor naive human, There is no sanctuary in this day and age. God cares not for your kind, and least of all mine." She reached a bloodied hand up and pressed it to his cheek, "This place is just a building. It is not safer for me or you as it is any other building."

"My child, have faith, God will protect you. You have not come here by accident. He hath guided you to safety."

"You follow blindly, priest. God cares only for the pure."

Her eyes began to glow, but Jase had turned away from her, the heavy wooden doors had suddenly flown open a second time, breaking off their iron hinges and sliding across the stone floor. An unpleasantly warm light blinded and engulfed him.

The woman screamed and Jase reached out blindly, feeling around for her until his fingers brushed by her arm. He grabbed it and pulled her to the front of the church, bumping into and tripping over pews as he ran blindly. He felt for the door to the passageways behind the chapel and opened it, pushing the woman through first as he felt a burning hand grab him and yank him back into the heart of the light.

"Dear Lord, what is all this?" he whimpered as two heavenly silhouettes of light leaned over him.

" _Daemon creatura, quomodo audes ne opus Dei_." The voices echoed from unseen lips and a hand reached out, grabbing his face across his eyes, " _Da nobis auxilium purgat se impuro mundi. Purgant, purgare, purificare in nomine Domini_."

Jase screamed, it felt as if fire was spreading across his entire body and seeping into every fiber of his being. He thrashed out, desperately trying to escape the fire that burned deeper within him. "Seigneur, Seigneur Dieu! S'il vous plaît! S'il vous plaît me sauver de cet enfer!"

As quickly as the heavenly messengers had appeared, they were gone again and Jase found himself lying face down under the wrecked altar, Puddles of Wax on the floor where candles had fallen, and the large carved cross that normally hung on the wall had fallen to the floor and cracked in half, inches away from his reach. Whimpering, he pushed himself up on his hands and knees. He trembled, his blood feeling like it was boiling, causing his normally pale skin to flush. His blue eyes gazed down at the fallen cross, "Pourquoi, mon Seigneur … Pourquoi?" He gasped, tears streaked down his cheeks as he breathed hard.

He collapsed again, blood trickling out the corner of his mouth, and his vision blurring as he lay unmoving upon the cold stone floor. Was this the end? Had God deemed him unworthy of finishing his life upon the earth?

* * *

 

A man dressed all in black walked the chilled streets, with his head bowed in thought and his booted feet leaving no trace of his passing in the snow. His silver hair fell past his waist, pale like spider's silk but thick and heavy as a cloak. The fringe of his bangs was long, feathering over his face to conceal his eyes from public view. He was a very busy man, that night. His plans hadn't gone quite as expected, and as a result he needed to move his business elsewhere.

He heard the screams as he approached the chapel, but he didn't immediately react. A man's scream in London at this hour wasn't ordinarily something to perk his interest. He was used to the sounds of human anguish, whether it be brought about by physical pain or emotional. This one was special, though. It drew his attention and gave him pause. There was an unusual quality to the scream. Such anguish…such betrayal. These were part of human existence, true, but there was something altogether new about this one, and he couldn't quite place a finger on what it was.

Undertaker started to pass by the building, but he stopped at the gates of the chapel and he stared thoughtfully. Curiously, he reached out with his senses. He instinctively tensed—just a little—when he detected a demonic presence. His tension gave way to puzzlement seconds later, when he also detected the divine aura. While there were usually hints of such on sanctified ground, this one was stronger…more specific.

"Angels," muttered the retired reaper. He began to grin. "And demons, too! My, my…what a pretty bit of intrigue this is. What might I find if I have a peek inside?"

He didn't sense any danger, and the only sound coming from the other side of the broken doors was the pitiful groans from a mortal throat. He could sense the life ebbing from the poor sod, and his curiosity got the better of him.

"Well," sighed Undertaker, "I won't find out standing out here, and I do have things to take care of."

Prudent enough to respect the danger he could be walking into if his senses were a bit dodgy, he manifested his scythe before pushing the wrought iron gate open. He walked up to the steps, moving with an eerie silence that would have given him away as a non-human, if anyone with the sense to know better had been watching. He saw splotches of red in the snow and on the steps, indicating that someone had entered the building after being injured. He knelt to examine them, and he saw footsteps leading away. Whomever had come to this place for sanctuary left in a rather big hurry.

Having a deplorably droll personality even in the most serious of circumstances, Undertaker knocked on the arching, heavy oaken door frame with the heel of his scythe. "Hellooo," he crooned. "Is there anyone alive in there?"

He heard another groan.

"I shall take that as a 'yes', then." Undertaker took his hat off and stuck it through the door slowly, just in case. When nothing attacked it, he shrugged and slipped inside. He found himself standing over a fine mess. The spots of blood he'd noticed outside had multiplied in here, and there were smears of it as if someone had slipped in it on their way out. Pews lay overturned, and the altar lay in ruin. Lying near a pew on his belly was a man wearing priestly robes, and Undertaker presumed the noises had come from him. There was no sign of anyone else. There was some blood on his hands, and he appeared to be caught in the act of reaching for a broken, carved cross that had fallen to the floor.

A candle lay on its side nearby, slowly rolling toward the suffering human. Undertaker nearly let it reach him, curious to see how he would react if his garments caught fire. He was, however, more curious to discover the cause of his moaning and find out what had happened in this place. The human was very close to death, and he wouldn't get his answers from a corpse.

"Well, not easily, anyway," he amended under his breath.

Undertaker knelt down beside the young man, and he rolled him over with a gentleness that contradicted his callous words. He was an attractive sort, with chestnut hair and lovely blue eyes. Currently, those eyes were wild and staring in a face spotted with blood and pale with agony.

"Hi-hi," greeted Undertaker with a bright smile. "Can you hear me?"

The young priest seemed to choke on blood as more splattered across the grey stone under him. His pale blue eyes flickering up to look at the man he hadn't noticed until that point. He reached out a shaking hand, his blood-splattered fingers grazing over the flowing dark robes the reaper wore, and his voice left his lips in a cracked gurgle, "R-run…my child—not s-safe…" he gasped and coughed, growing weaker as his body collapsed, his hand falling to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the stranger's clothes.

Undertaker clucked his tongue with amusement. "If you knew to whom you spoke, I don't think you'd be addressing me that way. Your death is approaching fast, young priest."

He caught up the candle that was still attempting to roll toward his suffering new acquaintance, and he pinched the flame out, before setting it aside. He looked around and he sucked his teeth absently, still keeping hold of his scythe, just in case. He should probably leave this human to his fate, but he sensed something in him that he couldn't understand. The flame of his soul seemed to burn brighter than most, and it wasn't showing signs of weakening with his body.

"What did this to you?" pressed Undertaker, lifting the fringe of his bangs to peer around without the veil. When he received no answer from the human, he looked down at him again. He was unconscious.

"Hmm, what's a reaper to do?" he mused. "Leave you here for some Dispatch officer to collect, or see to your injuries and try to get some answers from you?"

He considered the young man for a few moments, aware of his shuddering breaths. That wonderfully bright soul of his would fade eventually, and then he'd never find out what happened. He was immensely curious, and since he no longer ran his business as usual, he needed some form of entertainment.

"I could raise him," he muttered, but he shook his head a moment later. "But that wouldn't be very productive. My Bizarre dolls can barely string a single sentence together, and they never recall a thing from their pre-mortem lives. What to do, what to do?"

He looked at the young man again, and a strange, wonderful idea came to him. "But, I've never tried to make a _living_ subject into a dollie before. Perhaps that's the key. You can't create eternal life from an empty shell. The souls weren't intact. The records were fakes. What if I were to leave the _true_ records intact, and simply…edit them?"

He smiled at the dying priest. "What if I were to erase your death entirely, so that you could live forever? Would you like that?"

No answer was forthcoming from the human, and Undertaker shrugged. "Well, I gave you the opportunity to say 'no'. It's hardly my fault you didn't answer."

He banished his scythe, gently scooped the priest into his arms and lifted him. It wouldn't do to jar him too much, before he could get him to his new place of operation and begin.

He needed to move quickly, or he would lose him.

* * *

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight shown in through a small window that looked like it hadn't been cleaned for years. Dirt and dust caked the glass and hindered a clear view through it, cobwebs clung to the corners of the frame, and yet, the light that did manage to shine through it and fell over the young priest's face was bright enough to disturb his sleep. Groaning, the rather short young man turned his head and opened his eyes, blinking away the blur of slumber and taking in his rather grim surroundings. He found himself stripped down to not but his underpants, and he lay in a silk-lined coffin. Slowly, he sat up, his light blue eyes, now swirled with a darker blue with his pupils a small dot that was barely visible, scanned the room. It was small, with tables and candles lining the walls, crude surgical tools lay in trays, and jars of—he didn't want to know—lined the shelves. His head ached and he closed his eyes again, feeling numb to everything as he pressed a pale hand to his forehead, and growing alarmed at a thin raised line under his bangs. It felt like a cut, with stitches holding the skin together.

Gasping, his fingers followed the scar around finding it to wrap around his head completely. Just what had happened to him? Where was he? Why wasn't he at the church? It was Sunday morning…wasn't it?

And that's when the memories came flooding back. The woman in need of sanctuary…and her pursuers…angels? They had shown so pure—so bright…they had to have been messengers of God. But why would they attack him? What had they done to him? Hurt and betrayal settled in upon his heart, and he clutched his chest. He had devoted his life to God…and God's own angels…had nearly killed him? And for what? Saving a woman in need?

Undertaker came down the stairs silently when his sharp ears detected the sound of despair. His new dollie was awake, how lovely. The young man was sitting up in the coffin, feeling around his scalp in the manner that reminded Undertaker of someone searching for a bug he'd found in his hair. The confused, half-panicked look on his face gave him hope.

He was sentient. He had a sense of "self" that the others always lacked. Undertaker couldn't see him clearly enough to tell the details from this distance, but he imagined those nice blue eyes of his had changed as well, during his final stage of transition. He grinned broadly as he plucked the tool that made it all possible from his pocket, and he tapped it lightly against his open palm.

Through his records, Undertaker had seen what happened to him in the chapel. He thought he understood, but he wondered how much of it the priest himself comprehended. His dollie hadn't noticed him, yet. Perhaps it was time he made his presence known, and find out just how much of his sentience the priest had retained.

"Good morning, Jase," greeted Undertaker lightly. "How's the noggin feeling?" It then occurred to him that he might not understand his words in English as the man had proven to be a Frenchman, so he asked the question again in French, minus the slang.

Jase started and turned slowly to look at the strange man with long white hair. His swirled eyes were wide and his mouth gaped open a moment before he finally spoke, "…It hurts…" he paused, taking the man's appearance in more. He wasn't sure…but he thought he'd seen this man before blacking out…had he saved him? "And I do speak English…But pardon my curiosity…who are you?"

"Me? I'm your creator. Well, not your _original_ creator, but I did give you this new life." Undertaker brushed the death bookmark against his cheek, tilting his head. "Hmm, your speech doesn't seem crippled by your transition. I half expected you to lose your second language, but you've retained it. That's wonderful! I admit, my French is a bit lacking."

He approached him swiftly to get a better look at him. He could see him more clearly, now that he was close to him. He'd cleaned up the stitches nice and tidy, but there was a little blood leaking sluggishly out of one of them, over his left brow. He grabbed a square of gauze from the instrument tray and he wiped it away. He brushed aside the rich brown locks of hair that fell over it, and he smiled.

"Let me have a look at those eyes." He grasped the young man's jaw firmly, but not roughly, and he turned it toward the light coming in through the basement window. The overhead light would probably be too intense for him. Undertaker passed a hand over the left eye, then the right, testing the pupil reactions.

"Good papillary response," he murmured, nodding. He blew into his dollie's ear, without warning.

Jase gasped and pulled away, "It isn't right to judge any of God's people but…are you a madman?" he asked, covering his ear with his palm, "What do you mean by 'creator'? Surely you don't believe yourself to be God?"

The priest rubbed his ear. The reaper's action, though childish, had been alarmingly loud in his ear…and it had upset his headache.

Undertaker snickered softly with delight, finding the question unreasonably funny. "Most people don't even bother asking me that. Madness is a matter of opinion, as far as I'm concerned. Good reactive response."

He took out a notepad and scribbled down his results, thus far. Seeing the frowning look he was getting, he decided to offer more. "God? Alas, no. I was made by the same creator as you, originally. I'm old as balls now, though."

He put the pad of paper away and he gazed into Jase's swirled blue eyes. "I brought you from the brink of death, and you could very well live forever, now. Isn't that splendid?"

The former human raised an eyebrow, "While I don't doubt you saved me, it is impossible to 'live forever'. We must all face Judgment by the Lord when the time comes. And I do thank you for saving me, but I should be going…" Standing up, or, attempting to, at least, Jase's knees buckled under his weight and he found himself crumpled to the floor at the reaper's feet.

"Here now," said the reaper, kneeling down to grasp his dollie's arms and haul him to his feet. He held him at arm's length, supporting him despite his weak, confused struggles. "It's a bit too early for that. Your body needs time to adjust and regain strength. My, you're a bit mouthy for a doll. I wasn't quite expecting that, but I suppose I should have, seeing as I made you to retain your sentience."

Undertaker put him on the examination table and he held up his hand to halt him when he looked like he might try to climb off of it again. "Don't be a stubborn chap. You wouldn't even make it up the stairs. Now then, you asked me for a name, I believe."

He removed his hat and he gave a courteous bow. "You may call me Undertaker. He looked up at him from his hunched over position with a grin, his dual-colored eyes flashing with intrigue behind the silver veil of his bangs. "Don't worry about the stitches. They'll heal up with time, though I daresay you'll have some scarring. It's a small price to pay for eternal youth, eh?"

The reaper then straightened up and considered the doll, who was now beginning to look more frightened than confused. "Oh, don't be that way." He retrieved his bookmark from his robes and showed it to him. "You see this? It's what made it possible for me to save you, and it's pink!" The young man didn't seem as delighted with the color as Undertaker. The reaper sighed. "Right. I suppose the color isn't going to impress you…not when you can't even understand what a death bookmark is. We'll discuss that later. Right now, I think I should see to your well-being, if I don't want you to end up as a failure like the rest of them."

He leaned in close, and he combed his bangs out of his eyes to reveal his strange, double-iris gaze and pale features to the former priest. "Now you know the face of your benefactor, Mr. Dubois. Listen closely, because I'm only going to tell you this once. I need you to be very specific with me, and tell me what hurts, how severely it hurts, and what you remember of your ordeal before I found you. If you want me to relieve your suffering at all, you'd be wise to cooperate."

Jase sat stunned; the man before him hardly gave him a chance to speak from the time he was on the floor, to the time he revealed those strange but stunning eyes that just about made the breath catch in his throat. So deep, those pools of emerald and gold, so—powerful and wise—so ancient. They reminded him, in a way, of when he got to read the pages of a book or scroll generations older than even his grandfather. What secrets they held—certainly such eyes should be impossible. Never had he seen such interesting eyes—wisdom and power aside. The brightest of green lined thickly in gold. Surely no human could possess such eyes. And yet, what had the man said earlier? He couldn't quite remember, as he'd been distracted by his situation, but he had said something hinting at the fact he wasn't human… an angel, maybe? Devil?

He shook his head, realizing he'd been asked a question and that Undertaker was awaiting his answer. "My head hurts…like it's been split open…and my body's all…hot. Like a fire inside…and…" he paused, unable to hold back his question, "Are you an angel..? Or a demon..?"

Undertaker's expression softened into a smile. The young man's question had an air of almost childlike innocence to it, and he felt the faintest stirring of something that might have been pity.

"I'm neither angel nor demon, my diminutive friend. My, you really _are_ a short one, aren't you?" He looked him up and down. He hadn't fully realized it until Jase tried to stand up, but he was probably an entire foot shorter than Undertaker. "Why, I could fit you in my pocket!"

He chuckled with delight at the mental image, but he sobered and reminded himself of the importance of the examination. His special dollie could expire on him from neglect, if he did not take the proper steps to ensure his survival and recovery process. Jase's cheeks were flushed—a sign of a fever—and they seemed to have pinkened more since he revealed his face to him. The skin around his stitches were a little red, which could lead to infection. Reminded a bit of a frightened puppy, he looked into those wary, glass-like eyes, he reached out slowly and spoke in a gentle tone.

"It's all right; I'm just going to feel for your temperature," he assured him. He gently laid two fingers over the doll's forehead, mindful not to touch the tender skin where the sutures were. He frowned at the heat he felt there, and he had no doubt his doll was indeed feverish. He wasn't used to that, but then, all of his previous dollies were made of reanimated, dead flesh. Jase was a different matter. His heart still beat, his organs still worked. The aging process of his cells had been halted, and he was caught somewhere between alive and dead.

"Hmm, right. We'd best see to cooling you off soon," he muttered. "Otherwise the fever could cook your brain, and then you'd be just as mute and witless as the other dollies. I'll make use of a thermometer in a moment to see just how high your fever is in a moment. Right now, we'll take care of the most immediate issues, hmm?"

Making a mental note of his complaints, he went to a nearby shelf and selected a bottle of local anesthesia for the surface pain, some witch hazel extract and a jar of aspirin. He put the items on the nearby instrument tray next to his surgical tools, and he went to the pitcher of water he'd had the foresight to bring down earlier. He took a cracked mug out of the little cupboard over the sink, filled it with water and brought it to the instrument tray.

"Let's take care of the pain around the sutures first, shall we?" He opened the bottle of anesthesia and Witch Hazel extract, before going to the sink to wash his hands. After shaking them off, he put on a fresh pair of surgical gloves and he noticed the way Jase flinched at the snap of rubber, "You're all right," crooned Undertaker. "I'm just putting these on for sanitary purposes, love. I wouldn't want to expose your hurts to more germs than necessary."

His reassurance seemed to calm the former priest somewhat, and Undertaker approached him and applied some of the anesthetic to a square of gauze, first. "This will deaden sensation on the surface, my dear. Once you're nice and numbed up, I'll see to treating the stitches with the astringent to kill off all the naughty germs and chase away infection."

With that said, he got to work. He gently dabbed the numbing agent on the stitched area, and he murmured soothingly to the doll when he flinched reactively. "I know it stings a bit right now, but it ought to kick in right away."

He finished applying it, and he reached for the aspirin and opened the jar. "Hold out your hand for me, Jase. Palm up."

When the doll complied, Undertaker shook out two aspirin into his palm. He closed the jar and offered the mug of water to him. "Here you go. Swallow those down and satisfy your thirst, while the anesthetic does its work."

He watched as the young man did so, and those blue eyes stayed on him as if in fascination until he put the pills into his mouth. His motor control seemed to be functioning correctly, despite the unsurprising muscle weakness. With a bit of time and care, his strength would return and his coordination would improve. Undertaker's gaze was drawn to the way Jase's throat worked as he tilted his head back to swallow the pills, and he found himself admiring the sight in a completely non-clinical way. He looked somewhat like a ragged little castaway, his dollie. His brown hair fell down his back and around his pale shoulders, reaching to just above his waistline. He had a nicely toned, slim build and the play of smooth muscles on his chest and torso wasn't lost on the retired Shinigami.

"Business before pleasure, old chap," reminded Undertaker sternly under his breath. When Jase looked at him questioningly, he smiled benignly at him. "Don't mind me; you'll find I mutter to myself a lot. It's a habit I've picked up as a mortician, you see. I don't get many guests that talk back."

Satisfied that the anesthetic should have done its job by now, Undertaker picked up the gauze saturated with Witch Hazel, and he began to apply it. "There now, you should be feeling a bit better already." He dabbed all the way around the stitches. "I'll get a proper temperature reading when I finish this, and we'll decide what to do after that."

Suddenly remembering that Jase had asked what he was, Undertaker paused and looked into the pretty blue swirl of his eyes again and he debated whether he could handle the information. He was remarkably lucid, for someone that had just awoken from the brink of death. "You want to know what I am, love? Can you handle the answer, if I give it to you frankly?" He wasn't really asking the doll…it was more of an inward question of personal debate, because he was so used to speaking for his clients. He didn't specify as much to Jase, however, and it slipped his mind again that the doll could speak for himself.

Jase lowered the glass, now empty of it's cool refreshing water, and he held it between both hands, rolling it between his palms, "You aren't a devil, luckily. You aren't an angel…which I find myself in relief of, as I'm sure that is the type of being that attacked my person last night—was it last night? Or have I been out longer?" he frowned, realizing that could certainly be the case, "And I'm sure you aren't human…Those eyes you have…they are stranger than the eyes of a goat. But I can't possibly think of anything else you could be."

Were it anyone else, the comparison to a goat might have offended. Undertaker, however, found it hilarious. He burst into laughter, startling the young man on his table, and he stifled it for the sake of keeping his new prize alive and well. "Well, I'm definitely not a goat," he assured him with a grin, "nor do I have any relation to one. To put it plainly, young sir, I'm Death."

Jase stared at him with wide eyes, and Undertaker amended; "Or rather, I used to be death. Ferrying souls to the other side isn't my job, any longer. Now I'm a keeper of the dead. I tell the authorities what killed the bodies they bring to me, and I pretty them up for their special day, before they go to ground. Though I don't have the official title any longer, my nature hasn't changed. I'm still a Grim Reaper; otherwise known as Shinigami, or Death Gods."

Undertaker tilted his head and smiled at him. "In some ways, your old job and mine aren't that dissimilar. We both served the Divine, though our methods were quite different."

He removed his gloves and tossed them in a pail by the table, and then he retrieved a stethoscope from his instrument tray. He tucked the long fringe of his bangs back over his ears to keep them out of the way, and he put in the ear tips. He slipped one hand around behind Jase's back to support his posture and he loomed in close.

"Sit up straight for me now, so I can have a listen." He huffed on the diaphragm to warm it a bit, and then he placed it on the doll's chest, over his heart. "You've been out for three days. I'm frankly surprised you aren't ravenous. Hmm, you really are hot. I may need to consider giving you a cool soak to bring your temperature down."

He listened to the thump of the young man's heart, and he nodded in satisfaction. Nice and steady. "Lean forward a bit," he commanded, and he pressed against Jase's back to guide him. When he complied, Undertaker pressed the instrument against his back and asked him to take a few slow, deep breaths.

The short young man felt overwhelmed with everything, and sat in silence as the reaper examined him. "…So I was supposed to die…and if you are death…is this my afterlife, then?" he bit his lip as the man listened to his heart and his breathing. He turned and looked up at the man, "What am I? A ghost?"

Undertaker finished listening to his lungs and he took the stethoscope out of his ears. "No, nothing like that. A ghost wouldn't have a heartbeat now, would he?" He winked at him, and he put away the instrument. He turned away to get the thermometer out of its case, and he held it up to the light with a slight frown.

"Do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had to use this thing?" He glanced sidelong at Jase, and he grinned. "Most of the people I operate on don't have a body temperature. I believe this will be my thermometer's maiden voyage."

He approached the table again, and he shook the thermometer gently. "Now open up and say 'ah'," he instructed with a smile, leaning over the smaller man.

The Doll opened his mouth to ask again what he was, but fell silent with a frustrated noise when before he could speak; the thermometer was stuck in under his tongue. He sighed and closed his lips around the item and looked away. Getting answers from this death god seemed to be hit-or-miss when the man wasn't jabbering on and leaving little time for him to speak. It almost made him want to rudely interrupt—almost. Everything was just so new to him. The world was suddenly surreal and confusing.

Undertaker wasn't completely unaware of the poor man's frustration, but he was so fascinated with his success and so determined to make sure that Jase survived his transition, his mind kept veering off to the how's and why's of it, rather than firmly focused on explaining his situation to him. He still had questions he wanted answered himself though, and that incidentally worked in Jase's favor.

"Before I explain everything about how I revived you," Undertaker said, "I'd like to discuss what happened to you further. I saw the events in your mind's eye, you see. Reapers can watch the memories of the dying. I have a theory of what happened to you, and it may explain this un-natural fever you've got."

If not, then the transformation Jase had gone through with Undertaker's help must be the culprit. It was too early to tell, though. He looked him in the eye, and he noticed how he was squinting and wincing against the sunlight that had slowly begun to come in through one of the barred, dirty basement windows at just the right angle to beam on his face. The mortician solicitously moved around to the foot of the table to block it. It seemed his dollie had sensitive eyes, like the rest of them. He might need to employ a blindfold to protect his vision when and if he went outside in daylight.

"Would you like to hear my theory, Jase? Or do you perhaps have one of your own you would rather share with me?"

Realizing he couldn't answer very well with the thermometer in his mouth, Undertaker chuckled. "Ah, where is my head? Why don't you nod once to hear my theory, and twice if you'd prefer to give me your own?"

Jase considered things. If this man really was what he said he was, he likely knew a great deal more about what had changed his fate, especially if he'd seen those memories. So, he nodded once, figuring he could compare the two before he said anything about it himself.

"All right, then." Undertaker hopped casually onto the examination table beside his doll, hardly disturbing it. He leaned back on his hands and he kicked the air absently with his dangling boots, like a restless child. He didn't notice the wary look his patient was giving him as he thought it over and decided where to begin.

"That woman that you tried to help was no woman, for a start," he said with certainty. "At least, not a woman as you know them. She was a demon. Seems to me she managed to attract some divine attention to herself, and not in a good way. For whatever reason, she came to your chapel and when you had direct contact with her, it left a taint on you."

He shook his bangs back out of his eyes and looked at the doll shrewdly. "Angels don't like it when demons touch God's creatures. They were initially coming after _her_ , but when they saw her taint on _you_ and saw you try to help her, they didn't take it too kindly. I think your attackers were trying to purify you. Didn't matter if they killed you in the process, so long as they washed away the taint of that demon."

Undertaker hopped back down off of the table and he plucked the thermometer out of Jase's mouth. "Do you think I'm getting warm, love?"

Jase was stunned. He'd helped a demon? And angels didn't _care_ if they had killed him? He felt betrayed again. After devoting his life to God…the divine being didn't even care to preserve his life simply because he followed the belief that all were God's children? He clenched his fists, "I…I had a feeling they were messengers from above…but…I didn't want to believe it… Angels are supposed to be protectors and guides…God is supposed to be love…so why…why did they…I was a devoted servant of the church!" tears welled up in his swirled eyes, evaporating off his cheeks as they fell down his heated skin.

Undertaker frowned—not because the young man was crying, but because of the way his tears were evaporating so quickly from his skin. He looked down at the thermometer in his hand, and when he saw the temperature on it he looked at his dollie with consternation. "Oh, my."

He hastily put the thermometer back in its case. "Stay there. Do not try to move from that table, Mr. Dubois."

Without offering an explanation to him, Undertaker bolted for the stairs leading up to the main floor of the shabby building they were in. He went straight into the bathroom, plugged up the tub and turned the cold water on full-force. There were a few tricks some reapers could do that weren't common knowledge, and he happened to be one of the few who knew them. One such trick was a method he sometimes used to keep the riper variety of corpses brought to him for embalming from necrotizing further before he could work on them.

"' _Cold as death_ ,' goes the saying," he muttered as he stuck a hand into the water and concentrated. "' _Cold as the grav'e_." Humans used to know he was coming for them by the sudden chill in the air, and the fog he brought with him. He hadn't made use of those little skills on the living in years, but he had more than ample reason to, now.

Jase needed that deathly chill right now, or he would burn up.

The doll sat on the table in the basement, pulling his legs up against his chest and hugging them. Slowly, he leaned over and let himself fall onto his side, the tears still falling from his eyes. It was strange. He should be more upset over the fact that his life was over—that he was now something else—something he still didn't know. But at the same time, he was unable to change that fate and he knew that. Only the betrayal of his God seemed to upset him.

Undertaker returned to the basement to find Jase curled into a fetal position on the table, crying softly. He paused for a moment as he approached, and a strange feeling came over him. Actually a _mixture_ of feelings came over him, both of which he was no longer familiar with. Had he not gone for so long without experiencing them, he would have recognized them as empathy and compassion.

Undertaker knew what it was like to lose faith in one's establishment, and one's beliefs. Years beyond count ago, he had curled up much like that himself while nursing terrible injuries that had scarred him for life. He too had wept the tears of a broken heart and broken faith. Now his mind was fragmented, pushed and pulled in different directions, and the one thing that seemed solid to him these days was the desire to find things to smile about, and the need to understand the key to creation.

Without fully understanding why, he reached out to stroke the young man's naked shoulder gently. "Jase," he murmured, "I'm going to have to pick you up and take you upstairs, now. Your fever is raging inside of you, and you may not survive if I don't reduce it."

The young man nodded, reaching up to brush his tears away, though they never lingered upon his flushed cheeks. He pushed himself back up, and when Undertaker stepped in to scoop him into his arms, he wrapped his own arms around the man's neck to help support his weight. Jase was small and light, he always had been, and far too many people had picked him up whether he wanted to be or not, simply because they could. He'd grown used to being carried, though it hadn't happened since he'd come to England.

"There's a good chap," approved the reaper as Jase put his arms around his neck. He hardly weighed anything, and he felt unreasonably...good...in his arms—albeit toasty. Undertaker lifted him with care, and he moved as quickly as he could without jarring him.

As Jase was carried up to the cold bath that awaited him, he couldn't help but wonder about his future. What was his purpose? What would he do? Was he alone? Were there others like him? Could he have a normal life—afterlife?

"What is my fate for..?" Jase wondered out loud.

"Your fate has yet to be decided," he murmured truthfully, "but I can practically _guarantee_ you that it's going to be something marvelous. We've just got to get you through this rough spot and stabilize you." He practically floated up the stairs, and he smiled down at the young man in his arms when he appeared startled by the ease of his motions. "Reaper, remember?" teased Undertaker. "Comes with the territory."

He held the doll a little tighter as he pushed the bathroom door open with his foot and squeezed in with him. The water was still running, and the bath was about half-full. There were uneven bits of ice floating in the frigid water, and a cold mist had formed over it. Undertaker looked down at the traumatized little man in his arms, and he sighed. "This is going to be uncomfortable for you, love. I'll be right here, though. Stiff upper lip, right?"

When the doll nodded, Undertaker lowered him into the tub. He supposed he might have stripped him of his drawers first, but there was no time, and he felt like he should be charitable enough to leave him some modesty. His bollocks were likely going to try to crawl back up inside him anyhow, once the icy water touched them.

Tensing, Jase readied himself for the icy water, only to gasp in surprise when he was lowered into it and found he couldn't feel the temperature. He relaxed slightly, feeling no more uncomfortable than he had been on the examination table. Figuring he should probably let Undertaker know, he looked up at him, "I'm…not feeling the cold…" he stated, though the water was starting to evaporate as steam around him, and the ice began melting.

Undertaker's brows shot up beneath his bangs. He submerged the young man completely, and he snatched the towel off the nearby rack. He bundled it up and propped it under Jase's head to cushion it against the back of the tub. "That's...interesting," he murmured, more to himself than to his companion.

He checked his pulse, and he reached a hand into the water to place it flat against his chest, testing the temperature of his skin. The heart rate was steady, but his body was still quite warm—even beneath the water. He noticed the pained expression on Jase's fair, sculpted face when he moved and his shadow no longer blocked the light from the overhead lamp from his eyes. Undertaker looked around and he grabbed the washcloth from the rack he'd taken the towel from. He dipped it into the water—which was hissing and bringing up steam from the contact with Jase's heated body—and he folded it up to place it over the young man's eyes.

"Dollie eyes are sensitive to light," he explained in a murmur. "This might help soothe the ache in your head a bit, and it'll block out the light."

He reached into the water and allowed his cryptic powers to chill it further, forming more ice to counteract the heat that this small being was producing. He really wasn't sure what to do, now. The last time he'd seen a human body heat up like this, it had spontaneously combusted. The thought of his precious new miracle burning up in his arms made him uncommonly anxious. He had succeeded in defying the cycle of death and immortalizing a human, without the use of divine intervention. Now he might lose what he'd gained, if he couldn't figure out how to keep the little priest alive.

"…'Dollie'…is that what I am?" Jase muttered under the wet cloth covering his eyes. Indeed, the darkness did help in relieving his headache, and he relaxed further, "Your Doll?" He thought back to everything else he's been told since he'd awoken, "Am I some unnatural being you created simply to play with?"

Undertaker shrugged. "That's a rather dramatic way to put it, but yes. I created you to see if I could do it." He reached out to caress the doll's heated cheek with the backs of his nails, in the manner of a lover. "You are so much more than a toy, though. You're beyond anything I've ever achieved before, Jase. You, my friend, are a _masterpiece_."

"Am I not alone, then? You have made others like me? Have they survived?" he tilted his head, almost as if he knew exactly where the reaper's face was; as if he could see it, though he couldn't. "Please, I just want to understand…"

Undertaker smiled, relaxing a bit. The chap's questions were coherent and precise, and his senses appeared to be working fine. That was a very good sign. An ordinary human with a fever this strong would have likely begun to suffer brain damage by now, but for whatever reason, it didn't seem to be affecting him that way...yet. He could only hope that didn't change. The possibilities of the things he could accomplish if Jase truly was a success were practically limitless.

"No Jase, you aren't alone," he soothed. "Well, not _exactly_ , anyhow. Your predecessors weren't quite like you. Unlike yourself, they were dead when I altered them, and their souls had already departed. There are some left—on their way to Germany, I believe. The Aurora Society wishes to use them as living weapons—which in itself is rather funny to me, seeing as they're dead. You, on the other hand, are not. You're quite alive, and your soul is completely intact."

He took his hand away from the doll's face and he reached into his robe to withdraw the pink death bookmark. He leaned over Jase, so that his shadow was blocking the overhead light, and he lifted the washcloth to show him the item in his hand. "Do you see this? This is what I used to stop your death from happening. When mortals die, the events of their life are stored on what we reapers call cinematic records. Now, a reaper employed by the Dispatch Society is charged with viewing those records and collecting them for the Great Library, if they deem that the human is to die as scheduled. Once in a great while, a human on the death list is found to have extraordinary gifts yet to share with the world, and in such a case, the reaper replaces the records to allow the mortal to survive and carry on until the next death event."

Undertaker smiled at him, and he dipped the rolled up washcloth into the cool water again, before replacing it over those amazing blue eyes. "What I did with you was different, however. I erased your death event completely from your records, and I...well, let's say I took a bit of creative liberty and edited them, a bit. The angels truly wrecked your body with their purification attempts, and there was no way your body could have contained that fire as a mortal. You were doomed to die, Jase Dubois, had I not done what I did."

Undertaker sighed, looking the former priest's soaking body up and down. "Of course, I have no idea how _much_ heat this little body of yours can take, even in its altered state. You may have to soak for a while, to keep it under control. Constant diligence will be the key to your survival and recovery, I think."

Undertaker created more ice with death's chill, ensuring that the water stayed frigid around his doll's body. "Now, as for the question of your being a toy...do you _feel_ like one, love?"

"How is one supposed to feel? Toys usually are not alive. I feel hardly different than I had as…as a human. What makes me a possession to play with or not depends on how you treat me." he reached up and removed the cloth, holding his eyes closed a moment before letting them flutter open a crack to look at Undertaker, "…As my…'creator' of sorts, you've become my master, have you not? How do you plan to use me?"

Undertaker suffered a brief moment of perverted humor at that question, and he quickly stomped it out. There was a time and a place for his quirky mirth, and this was neither. Even a mad old codger like him knew that. "I must say I'm impressed. I wouldn't expect most humans to keep their wits about them under your circumstances, but you're a sharp gent, aren't you?"

He considered the question. He honestly hadn't really thought of what he'd _do_ with the young man if his little experiment proved successful. His only immediate goal was to see if he could make it happen. He looked around at his surroundings, his temporary base of operations. He would need to move again soon. He could only mask his presence from Shinigami authorities for so long, and he wasn't going to fool himself into thinking they wouldn't come after him again, after his encounter with two of their agents on the Campania.

"Yes, I'm your master, if it's to be put bluntly," Undertaker finally agreed with a nod. "Like all of my dollies, I designed you with a safety contingency. The records I've tagged onto yours prevent you from turning on me, so even if you were to go on a flesh eating rampage, you'd never so much as lay a tooth on me." He grinned. "Clever of me, isn't it?"

When he got no answer, he shrugged. He couldn't rightly blame the doll for being a bit resentful. "Still, that being said, you aren't a slave, Jase. I have no use for a companion that comes to me because of compulsion, and I expect you to use that lovely free will of yours to make most of your own decisions."

The reaper studied him with a curious little smile, tilting his head. "You know, I rather like you. You've got a quick mind and you don't seem squeamish. That could be useful. I've never taken on an apprentice, before. Would you like to learn about how life and death works, little friend? You've got a handle on theology already, so why not extend your knowledge to the fleshly matters? Haven't you ever wondered what makes your heart beat in your chest?"

He leaned in close to him, speaking softly into his ear. "Haven't you ever wondered what causes goosebumps, or considered where that exhilarating feeling comes from when you get startled or excited? I can teach you all of that. All I want from you for now is your cooperation. I want to observe you. I created you, true, but I don't fully understand how you work, yet. We'll need to perform some tests, and I'll need your verbal accounts of how things make you feel." He gently ran his nails through the brunet's hair, careful not to let it snag and tug on his scalp. Once the tissue re-attached to the skull and the stitching healed, he could give it a proper brushing. "Does that sound like a fair exchange to you?"

Jase remained silent a long while. His mind taking in what he'd been told. ' _flesh eating_ _rampage'_. Was he the sort of cannibalistic being to do such a horrible thing? If so, why? Why would the reaper create such beings? He'd been attempting to take everything in stride, but that seemed too much.

"Don't let me…" he whispered, looking down at the icy waters he'd all but forgotten he'd been sitting in, "Don't let me lose control and kill anyone… ' _Thou_ _shalt not kill_ ' Even if God's own can not follow such laws, I refuse to ignore them! Don't let me do what the others have done before me!" his gaze snapped up to look at Undertaker, blue eyes pleading, though they soon snapped shut to shield them from the sunlight. "Do as you need with me—but don't let me kill!"

Undertaker wasn't particularly surprised by his vehement plea. He wasn't expecting a man of God to be too keen on the idea of eating the flesh of his former brethren, after all. "The cannibal impulses are an unfortunate side effect of the process that creates the bizarre dolls," he explained. "I have no idea yet whether you'll be prone to that hunger as your cousins are, but I'm curious about something."

Undertaker loomed over him, again shading him from the overhead lamp with his shadow. He smiled down at him, his pale hair spilling over his shoulders and dangling around his face like a canopy of glossy, thick spider web. Some of it dropped into the water, where it drifted up against his doll's bare skin.

"Tell me, Jase," he murmured, still stroking the young man's hair, "why should you be any better than those angels, hmm? If divine beings hold no value over human life, why should you—a creature that may well come to need their flesh to sustain you—suffer compassion for them?"

"Why should I harm the innocent?" Jase countered, opening his eyes when he sensed that the light had been blocked once more, "Why should I fall to the level of those beings that betrayed my trust in God and forget all that had been taught to me? Why should I be the same as them when I'm not like them at all? Is there a rule that all non-humans must treat humans as if they are nothing of importance? Those are living souls…I'll not treat them as food."

The bit about non-humans treating them as nothing of importance had an unexpected effect on Undertaker. "Oh? Supernatural beings are alone in their mistreatment of mortals, eh? Have you listened to the town crier, lately? When you performed your sermons in church, did you or did you not ask the assembly to pray for those lost to violence—which is committed against them by their own kind, no less?

"I remember the humans I've reaped," insisted the reaper softly, lowering his gaze. "Long after their family lines have abandoned all care or knowledge of them, they stay with me. I had a collection of keepsakes from my favorites, in fact." His hand impulsively went to his waist, where his chain belt of lockets once draped around it. "Every single night in this city, some human kills another. I can feel it when it happens. I sense their death, agony, their fear, their desperation. Do you know what else I sense, Jase?"

Undertaker wasn't smiling as he lowered his face, until it was only a few inches away from the doll's. "I sense their killers' utter malcontent, or their glee, or their sexual gratification, in some cases. Don't speak to me as if the mortal masses are a pious lot. Men like you are the exception, my friend...not the rule. But don't take _my_ word for it. As soon as I'm satisfied that you're well and strong enough to take a little tour through London with me, I'll show you myself. I'll let you _witness_ with your new eyes how humans treat one another, while you sit on your bum and pray in the pews for them, cozy in your little chapel."

He backed off abruptly, reigning in old anger that he'd never fully banished. His cold expression melted away, and he smiled tenderly at his dollie. "But first, we must see to it that you get well, mustn't we? Forgive my outburst; it's an old grievance of mine." He reached into the water and he retrieved the washcloth again. He wrung it out a bit, and he replaced it over Jase's eyes. He stroked his hair soothingly and he sighed. "Regardless of how I perceive humans, if stopping you from acting on your nature is what you wish in return for your servitude, so be it. I'll even swear on the Bible, if you like."

"…You think I don't know the evil within the hearts of men?" Jase said in a low tone, "I know it well I've witnessed it, lived it, and have been victimized by it…I have not always been a man devoted to the church. I was once a boy without direction, you know. You saw my 'records', right? Did you not see that? But it is also not up to me to judge a soul as good or evil. I know not who is innocent and who is in need of salvation. But you…it was your job, was it not? To judge those souls? I asked you not to let me harm the innocent." He sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his long chocolate-brown hair, "I prayed for the souls of the corrupted…I had no idea such heart-felt words would fall upon deaf ears of a divine being who cares not…I had faith, Undertaker, just because it had been misplaced doesn't mean I was completely blind to the world."

"Then why would you speak as though creatures like myself, demons and angels are solely responsible for the suffering of mankind?" insisted Undertaker curiously. "Or God, for that matter? Free will was granted for a _reason_ , love. We were all given the tools we needed to serve our purpose. Just because some of us..."

He trailed off and looked away, compressing his lips for a moment. "Just because some of us fall, fail or rebel doesn't necessarily mean God doesn't listen or watch. We're all at the mercy of fate, my dear, but we aren't puppets...well, _most_ of us aren't. One could argue that rule doesn't apply to my other dollies, but that would imply they're easily manipulated—which they are not. Even I can't direct most of their actions; and I created them."

He looked at Jase again, and he reached into the water to touch his submerged abdomen and test the temperature. "You're still quite warm, but you appear to be cooling down a bit. That's a fortunate bit of luck for us. I was beginning to think I'd have to keep you in a cold water tank, like some big, exotic fish." He chuckled at the image. "Well Jase, there is one interesting little fact about reality that I'll impart to you: things don't get done by sitting around asking someone else to do it for you. Give me your vow, and I shall give you mine in return. Your submission in exchange for my protection. Will you accept me as your master and do as I ask?"

Jase sat in silence a moment longer, touching the wet cloth covering his eyes. What choice did he have, really? If he refused and left—he could only regret it should he lose control and start killing people. But if he agreed…he'd have help to stay in control of himself. Finally, he gave a small nod, "I will."

Undertaker beamed happily. "Wonderful!" He reached for Jase's hand and he shook it heartily, scattering cold water droplets everywhere in the process. He unceremoniously dropped it back into the bath and he stood up, already planning out the things he'd like to do first. He really didn't need to make an agreement with the little doll; Jase was his, and nothing the former priest could do would change that. Still, he chose to give him the opportunity to accept his fate willingly, rather than force it on him needlessly. He rather liked having a dollie that would answer him when he talked to it, one that was living and warm and capable of laughter and...

Undertaker paused, frowning. _Was_ his new companion capable of laughter? He really didn't know the answer to that, and Jase presently had nothing to laugh about. He looked down at the reclining, unhappy figure in the tub, and he tapped a long fingernail against his teeth thoughtfully.

"I've got it," he muttered. Who said the laughter had to be inspired by amusement? Reflex was just as good, if he was even capable of it. Of course, he might have to experiment a bit to find just the right spot to provoke the reaction he was after. He dropped back into a squat beside the tub, reached into the water and went for the most common target, giving the doll's ribs a tickle without warning.

Jase tensed and jumped, the cloth falling from his eyes and into the icy waters as his body jerked and started to wiggle, laughter being forced into his voice, "St-sto—what a-are you—why—ah-hahaha!" water splashed out onto the floor and soaked Undertaker's robes as he attempted to escape the rather unexpected attack to his ribs, sides and under his arms.

Undertaker grinned in delight at the sound of the laughter. He stopped tormenting him, and he gave a satisfied nod. "Just checking, love. Your laughter, by the way, is prettier than the sound of church bells on a Sunday." He took a moment to admire his smile. "Now I'll go and fetch you something to eat. You must be feeling a bit peckish, by now. We'll see if normal food can satisfy your hunger."

He stood up, absently shook some water off of his boot, and walked the few steps to the open door. He paused as he started to go through it, and he looked back over his shoulder at the doll, "And don't worry, Jase. I won't let you harm any _innocents_."

The doll slowly calmed again, but frowned as he thought about food. It was true. He _should_ be hungry. It had been a few days, after all. But he didn't feel the need for nourishment in the slightest, just as he still could feel no chill of the water he lay in.

But even if he wasn't feeling hungry…he should try to eat something, so he didn't speak up, settling back down in the water and feeling around for the cloth to place back over his eyes to protect himself from the harsh light.

Undertaker returned with a jar of his favorite bone-shaped shortbread cookies. Jase stirred a bit in the tub when he knelt beside it again, indicating that he sensed his presence. Undertaker took one of his hands and placed a biscuit in it.

"There you are. Try that, and if you can keep it down, I'll feed you something heavier. I've got some stew leftover from lunch, still warm in the pot."

He watched with interest as Jase bit into the cookie and munched it. He allowed him to eat the whole thing before inquiring further. "How is that settling for you?"

"My stomach doesn't seem to be rejecting it…" Jase muttered, "But I don't know how much I should try eating…" he paused, "I feel thirsty, but not hungry at all…is that normal?"

Undertaker frowned in thought. "No, it isn't. The others woke up ravenous, and the only thing they thirsted for was human blood."

He tested his body temperature again, and he decided it was safe to remove him from the bathtub. "Your fever seems to have dropped a bit—if it could really be called a fever at all. Let's get you all dried off and in something comfy, and you can have some more water."

Undertaker rolled a sleeve back so that he could reach down between Jase's feet to pull the plug. He honestly didn't know why he bothered; his robes were soaked from the hem to the knees already, and he would need to change into a dry outfit himself. As the water began to drain, he removed the washcloth from Jase's eyes and held his arms out for him.

"Come along, then."

Cracking open his eyes, Jase blushed slightly, knowing he had no choice in the matter. His legs had already proven themselves too weak to support him currently. So, he moved himself over and slipped his arms around the reaper's shoulders, holding on tight as he was lifted from the draining waters of the tub.

Undertaker eased his charge down onto the threadbare bath rug, and he retrieved the towel he'd rolled up to use as a pillow for Jase. He shook it out and he wrapped it around the doll's body to dry his torso as best he could while supporting him with one arm. He grinned a little when he noticed the deeper flush in his cheeks, guessing the cause for it. He considered sparing his modesty by looking away and allowing him to try and pull his wet underclothes off by himself, but he couldn't imagine him succeeding, in this weak and uncoordinated condition. He'd barely had the strength to grip his hand when Undertaker shook it, mere moments ago.

"Just try to relax while I get these wet drawers off of you," he said, squirming aside to lay the young man down gently. "Close your eyes, so the light doesn't hurt them."

When Jase obeyed, he slipped his long fingernails into the waistline of his soaked underpants, hooking it with his fingers. He worked quickly, keeping his touch clinical even though his gaze was anything but. He took in the sight of his naked groin, the triangle of crisp brown curls framing it, and the shape of his pelvic bone. Undertaker usually adored stitches on his dollies, but he was rather thankful that Jase hadn't been damaged enough to require more than the necessary scalp sutures, after having his procedure. He had creamy, soft skin and a youthful, gently masculine build.

He only allowed his eyes to linger for long enough to assess his level of attraction to him, and then he resumed drying him off. Once he was finished, he helped him lift his hips so that he could get the towel under them, and he wrapped it around his waist to cover him up. He instructed him to put his arms around his neck, and then he picked him up again to carry him out of the bathroom.

Undertaker had no bed to speak of, nor did the shack he was currently staying in have any common furniture. All he had were the coffins he'd brought from his now abandoned shop, along with his supplies. Aside from the bathroom, kitchen and the basement, there were no separate rooms in the creaky old shack. He carried Jase into the living room and over to one of the open coffins and he eased him down into it. He propped him up against the back of it so that he could sit, and he considered his small build.

"I don't have much in the way of fashion," he informed him, "and I had to toss your priestly robes. You'll absolutely _swim_ in robes of mine, but I can't very well leave you with naught but a damp towel to sleep in, can I? I suppose one of my shirts or robes will do, for now."

He left him then, going into the kitchen to pour a cup of water for him. He brought it back to him and made sure he could hold it steady to drink out of, before walking over to the trunk in the corner of the room to find him something to wear. Being tall with long legs himself, Undertaker was positive that little Jase would never fit into a pair of his pants. He could probably wear one of his shirts and roll the sleeves back, but it might not cover his gent bits enough to preserve modesty. With a shrug, he decided on one of his lighter robes.

"Here we are," he said as he shook the garment out and turned to offer it to him. Jase had finished his cup of water already, and Undertaker raised his brows. "Still thirsty, are we?"

The doll nodded, though his eyes remained closed. He held out the glass, "If it isn't too much trouble…could I have more, please?" he requested, shifting his legs off to his side in the coffin.

Another smile curved Undertaker's lips. He generally found humans to be chatterboxes that tended to speak without saying anything of real value. That was why his dollies were such a comfort to him. They represented the beauty of death, in motion. Unfortunately, they had no personalities at all. This one, this former priest, demonstrated the good qualities in both. He didn't ask inane questions, he had transcended life and death, and he was very polite. "Of course." Rather than take the cup to the kitchen to refill it, he chose to fetch another pitcher from the cupboards and fill it up completely. Jase had a powerful thirst, and that was understandable to Undertaker. He was likely dehydrated, and drinking plenty of fluids would help flush out any infection he might still be harboring. He brought the pitcher back into the living room and he filled Jase's cup with it, before setting it on the floor beside his coffin.

"There, you should be set for a bit, now. I'll brew us up some afternoon tea, as well." He retrieved the robes he'd dropped on his own nearby coffin, and he waited for Jase to finish drinking his refill, before approaching him with it. "All right, put that aside for a minute, so we can get you properly dressed. It's going to be far too long on you, but at least it's something to wear until I can get you some proper fitting clothes. At least I was able to salvage your shoes from that mess, so you won't have to go barefoot. Slip out of that towel for me and hold your arms over your head, love. I'll just drop it over you, and save us both the trouble of fooling with the buttons. It should slip right on like a nightgown."

Jase, a little reluctantly, set aside his glass, feeling over the surface with his fingers to make sure the glass would be safe in the spot, as he didn't wish to open his eyes and expose them to the painful light. He then held his hands up above his head and soon felt the long robes being pulled down onto his body, the fabric fluttering down and around him. He felt like he was swimming in it, the way it hung loosely to his frame and pooled around him where he sat in the coffin. He shifted and removed the towel, folding it unevenly and setting it aside before attempting to readjust the robes. He actually felt like a doll in them. He could remember his cousin who had always had many dolls, but her favorite had been smaller in size. Though that didn't stop her from wanting to play dress-up with the dresses from other, larger dolls.

Undertaker retrieved the towel from him and he took a moment to amuse himself with the sight of the small man buried in his robes. Yes, they would definitely need to procure a wardrobe for Jase. As darling as he looked struggling to keep Undertaker's robes from slipping down over his shoulders, he couldn't very well get any exercise in the thing. It would trip him up. He'd need something tailored, no doubt, since he was even smaller than the average female. An idea came to Undertaker, and he snapped his fingers.

"Of course! You had more than one outfit, after all." He mentally reviewed the cinematic records he'd witnessed when he did his work on him. Though his life as a priest had been humble as expected, Jase _did_ have a trunk with personal belongings such as clothing and books in his sleeping chambers at the abbey. "Jase, until we can get a tailor to fit you for something new, it may be in your best interests for me to retrieve your old belongings."

He considered the doll's bitter words from before, and he wondered how deep his feelings of betrayal went. "Are there any personal effects you would like me to collect from your trunk? For that matter, would you like me to retrieve any of your clergy accoutrements, for you?"

Jase shook his head, "Just something to cover myself with, and…" he trailed off, remembering the first time he'd been happy. A young woman. She had been a little older than he, and taller, as most people were, but, she'd been the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen…even more-so than the angels who'd attacked him. She'd been gentle and kind, and had shown him the way to salvation.

Joyelle.

She had been so kind to him…and he had loved her, though fate had not been kind. While she had won his heart, her own had been won by another man, who took her as his wife. Jase had been happy for her, but kept a treasure of her memory hidden within the pages of his bible. A thin wooden locket he had once made as a gift for her, though he'd never gotten the chance to give it, and inside, folded neatly, was a letter she had written him when he joined the priesthood. It was a small letter, not even a page, but it held her love for him. A sibling-like love, but love none-the-less. "..My locket…"

Undertaker frowned, but then he recalled something he'd seen in the cinematic records, and he understood. "Ah, the woman. Very well my dear, I'll be sure and fetch your locket for you. I assume you'll be all right on your own for an hour while I go to retrieve these things. The water pitcher should last, but if you should happen to run out before I return and desperately need more, use the tap in the kitchen. The one in the bathroom sink tends to spit and the pipes have a leak. If you don't think you can make it on your own, I'm afraid you'll just have to wait for me."

With that said, He turned and walked toward the front door. As an afterthought, he turned out the lights and drew the curtains on the windows shut. "There, that should be dim enough for you," he announced. "When I get back, we'll fashion a comfy blindfold for you and have some tea, shall we?"

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and he cast a smile over his shoulder at the young man, who had cautiously opened his unusual-looking, blue eyes. "You know, Jase, you and I are alike in our appreciation for lockets as personal keepsakes. You have my respect, in that matter. Toodles!"

He slipped out the door quickly, hardly allowing a ray of the afternoon light the chance to beam through the opening before he shut it and locked it again. He dearly hoped his dollie would have the common sense to stay put, and not go wandering in some vain attempt to find mortal help for his condition. No matter, thought. Undertaker was connected to him, and he could track him wherever he went. In a sense, his bond with the former priest was much like Earl Phantomhive's bond with his butler; only he couldn't compel his dollie to obey him with a simple word or phrase.

In hindsight, the reaper wondered if he should have employed more compulsions when he was in the process of altering Jase Dubois' nature and records. He'd been so concerned with preserving his life that he hadn't thought to introduce basic command words into the records. Perhaps he should consider doing that, just in case.

* * *

To be continued...

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jase was thankful that the reaper had thought enough to block out the light for him, letting him sit in the dark where his eyes wouldn't burn and hurt. As he waited, he finished off the pitcher of water, but he was fine with waiting and not going to attempt to refill it between the promise of tea and knowing last time he'd tried to stand he'd crumpled to the floor like a rag doll. He paused at that thought. Strange how his mind kept referring to a children's toy when he thought of himself, now that he knew he was no longer human, and the madman had turned him into something else that he referred to as a 'Bizarre _Doll_ '.

The small man didn't know what to think, really, about his death, his 'rebirth', his 'savior', and his afterlife… On one hand, he'd been saved, allowed to live on, start over… but if he looked at it differently, he'd been robbed of his death…his everlasting rest, his soul's fate and judgment…if he understood the man right, he'd possibly live forever, his body frozen in time…He didn't know what fate he would have rather had…this or death.

Growing bored as he waited, Jase lay down in the coffin, silently waiting until he drifted off to sleep.

* * *

 

It was easy to slip right past the clergy on the chapel grounds. Undertaker simply cloaked himself from mortal perceptions, and the only trace of his passing was a chill in the air that made some of them shiver and look around curiously. One of them—a rather portly, freckled man with a head of balding, ginger hair—seemed to have a more attuned sixth sense than his brethren. For a brief moment, he seemed to look right at Undertaker and even though the most he could have detected visually was a faint shadow, he looked suddenly startled and suspicious.

Undertaker kept a wide berth of him, respecting his perceptive powers. He was Irish, and if the reaper wasn't mistaken, he had some Druid lineage in his ancestry. Not that any of these mortals posed a threat to him, but he preferred to get in and out without a fuss, so that he could get back to his dollie.

Going by what he remembered of Jase's cinematic records, he found the corridor leading to the individual cells for clergy that lived on the grounds, and he realized that Jase's small sleeping chambers were really the only one's being used. He presumed the other clergy had homes of their own. He waited for a passing monk to go by, and then he pushed the door shut carefully, grimacing when it creaked. He located Jase's chest at the foot of the little iron bed, and he went to it to open it up.

It was locked.

"Bugger," muttered the reaper under this breath. He poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth and he grasped the fliplock. Employing his natural Shinigami strength, he pulled until it snapped off, leaving it free to open and plunder.

Undertaker absently dropped the broken piece to the wooden floor, and he lifted the lid to have a look inside. Jase was a rather orderly fellow. His clothes were folded neatly and categorized, and the handful of books was neatly stacked in the right corner. His personal copy of the Holy Bible was on the top, and Undertaker lifted it out and flipped through the pages to find the locket his dollie had made. He took a moment to admire the craftsmanship, blowing a soft whistle.

"Very nice, pet. The little glimpse I got of it in your records didn't quite do it justice, did it?"

He started to pocket the item and leave the bible, but he changed his mind and took the tome, as well. Jase might be too embittered right now to have any desire for it, but Undertaker knew how clergy tended to be, and there was a chance he might find some comfort in it, later. He paused and frowned, wondering why he bothered. Why should _he_ care if his servant found comfort in anything or not? The idea to come and retrieve his clothing had been a practical one, but his efforts to be kind to the doll startled him a bit.

Perhaps it was simply because he hadn't had company in a while—not counting the mute dead and Jase's mindless cousins. The other dolls were made out of curiosity, to see how far humans would go to destroy one another. It amused and sickened him all at once, the way they clamored for power in their ranks and stepped on one another without a thought to get it. Even their young weren't safe from their power-lust. Babies often fell victim to the callous cruelty of invading armies, same as adults.

And speaking of the nippers, sometimes their own _parents_ put them on the death list. Undertaker thought that was an awful shame, because while adult humans tended to irritate and bore him more often than not, their younger counterparts were quite entertaining and delightful. The ones that actually got the chance to enjoy their childhood were fun to observe, with their carefree laughter, boundless imaginations and vivid curiosity.

In many ways, Undertaker was like a big child, himself.

He got so sidetracked thinking about the good and the bad in humanity, he didn't notice the Irishman approaching in the hallway, and he'd dropped his concealment from mortal senses. Undertaker got to his feet and turned as the door opened to admit the priest. The Irishman looked immediately alarmed upon seeing the tall, black-garbed reaper.

"What'r ya doin' in Father Dubois' chambers, sir?"

Undertaker sighed. Perfect; "I'm here to collect some things on his behalf," he explained.

The priest looked down at the broken pieces of lock on the floor, and he started to leave. Undertaker reacted swiftly, interposing him before he could so much as take one step out the door. He appeared between the priest and the door in an instant, and he manifested a chill fog around himself, gazing into the priest's wide, startled hazel eyes through the partial concealment of his bangs. Enough of his gaze was revealed to him for the Irishman to catch a glimpse of his otherworldly eyes, and to add an even greater impression, Undertaker manifested his death scythe. The priest backpedaled and nearly fell into Jase's trunk, his face going immediately pale.

" _Naoimh chaomhnú linn!_ " He yelped.

"Funny thing about your saints," murmured Undertaker in a voice as chill as the grave, "many of them were once your people's gods, before your island was assimilated into Catholicism. Your ancestors prayed to them in much the same way you do now, but they had a different vision of the Divine. Isn't it interesting how things come full-circle, Sean?"

"W-what d-do ya want?" gasped the priest, clutching his chest over his heart. "Is it...my time?"

"Not just yet," assured Undertaker, "though if you don't cut back on the lard in your diet, you could make it onto the list sooner than you think. Today, I'm here for Jase's belongings."

"F-Father Dubois? You mean he's..." The clergyman couldn't seem to find the breath to finish.

"Dead," supplied Undertaker helpfully, nodding his silver head. He allowed the fog to die down around him. "But to finish his crossing to the afterlife, he requires a few things of sentimental value. Restless spirits being somewhat of a deterrent to my job, I've come to collect those things and be on my merry way. You wouldn't stand in the way of an angel of death, would you?"

The priest crossed himself hastily and moved aside to give Undertaker access to the chest again. "T-take whatever ya want, sir! How did the young priest p-pass?"

Undertaker glanced at him as he gathered Jase's belongings into his arms. "There was an internal rupture, while he was closing down for the night three days ago. Neither you nor your fellow clergyman could have saved him, so put it out of your mind." Undertaker smiled. "He's in a far better place, now."

"Aye," gasped the Irishman in agreement, clasping his hands in prayer. "May the Lord keep his soul. He was a good lad."

"Still is," said Undertaker without thinking. He banished his scythe, finished collecting what he needed, and he smirked at the priest. "We'll be seeing you in around seven years, Father—give or take. I suggest you make those changes to your diet, if you want to procrastinate our next meeting."

The priest swallowed and nodded convulsively. When Undertaker vanished in a fog of darkness, Father O'Reilly's eyes rolled back in his head and he fell flat on his back, unconscious.

* * *

 

Undertaker returned to his dilapidated residency in the slums of London, some twenty minutes later. He'd managed to get everything done in under an hour.

"Honey, I'm home," he greeted cheerfully as he stepped into the house, arms laden with Jase's clothing. He went quiet when he saw that his dollie was sleeping peacefully in his coffin, and he pressed his lips together to prevent more sound from coming out of them and disturbing him. He started to tip-toe over to the coffin closest to the front door to put the booty he'd collected down, but when the floor creaked under the first step, he decided to just glide, instead. He closed the door—which he'd been keeping oiled since taking up residence here to avoid that awful squeaking sound he hated so much.

"All tuckered out, are we?" whispered the reaper with a grin. Now that he thought of it, this would be the perfect opportunity to make some minor alterations...ones that would allow him just a little more control over his dollie if things ever went sour, without compromising Jase's free will.

Undertaker silently glided to the stairs leading to the basement, and he retrieved a bottle of ether and a cloth from the shelves down there. He applied some to the cloth, deliberately halting his breath so that he wouldn't inadvertently inhale any of it, and he returned to the main floor.

He was so quiet and subtle about it that Jase didn't even stir when he placed the cloth over his mouth and nose to keep him out. Satisfied that the doll wouldn't wake before he was finished, Undertaker called his death scythe again, and he made a small cut in Jase's chest with it—just enough to allow his records to be handled. He retrieved his bookmark and he got to work on making a couple of simple, quick revisions to the records.

When he was finished, Undertaker put away the bookmark, took the ether-dampened cloth from his doll's face and went back into the basement to toss it into a bucket of water to be washed and sterilized again later. He started up the stove in the kitchen, put the kettle on and prepared the tea he'd promised to Jase, when he finished with that.

* * *

 

 

Jase awoke to the sound of a kettle screaming on the heat, and he slowly sat up, looking around the still darkened room. He rubbed his chest, feeling a small tingling in one spot, though he thought nothing of it. "Undertaker..?" he rubbed the sleep from his swirled eyes and finally spotted the man, "How long have you been back..? You could have awoken me…"

Undertaker looked up from the tarnished old tray he was carrying back into the room with him, and he grinned. "Hullo, love. Have a good nap?" He glided over to him, and he set the tray on the floor by the coffin. "You were resting so peacefully, it would have been a shame to wake you. I haven't been back for long."

He reached into his robes and he procured the holy tome he'd taken, with the hand-crafted locket still pressed between the pages. He held it out to the young man in offering. "Though you might like the case it came in, too."

Jase took the bible in shaky hands, his gaze lowering to it, "…It's just a book…isn't it? It's not truly scripture or the word of God…just the words of men, putting it down on paper in God's name under the assumption that he could actually care…" he gripped the leather binding of the book tight as he thought out loud, not really caring if his companion answered back. "How much are lies, and how much is truth..?"

Undertaker smiled, and he squatted down beside the coffin. His gaze went to the book—which was blurry in his nearsighted vision. Rather than answer him aloud, he turned and began to prepare a cup of tea for him. Jase needed to hash out his inner faith crisis a bit, before Undertaker offered his input. Having been in a situation not terribly unlike this himself once, he felt some empathy for the doll.

Having been privy to his records and therefore knowledgeable about his tea preferences, Undertaker prepared a beaker for him according to his taste, and he dragged another coffin over to serve as a makeshift coffee table. He settled the lid on it, put Jase's beaker down and then made a serving for himself. He sipped it quietly and listened to his companion, interested to hear what motivated his tormented heart.

Jase gave a soft 'thank you' to the reaper and picked up the beaker, pausing as he looked it over, "…this is…clean, right? It didn't have anything strange or questionable floating in it before you made tea..?" he couldn't help but remember the jars in the basement he had seen when he had first awoken to his new inhuman life as a Bizarre Doll.

Undertaker found his concern ridiculously amusing, but understandable. "Now, why would I go through all the trouble of washing my hands and putting on sterile gloves before treating your stitches, if I were going to turn around and feed you tea in a tainted container? Silly dollie."

He sipped his own tea and grinned. "I should probably invest in some proper teacups, eventually."

Jase took the locket out of the bible and set the book down, looking at the small wooden gem he'd crafted. With a sigh, he slipped it over his head and tugged his hair out from the string before taking a sip of the drink. He frowned. The tea seemed like water, just as flavorless, which was odd only because he had seen Undertaker add honey and milk…the way he liked it. It was very disappointing to him that he couldn't taste it, even a little, and thinking back, that treat that Undertaker had given him to eat hadn't tasted like anything at all, either. "… _Pourquoi ne puis-je goûte_..?"

It took Undertaker a moment to comprehend what his dollie was asking, with his French being on the slow side. "Taste?" he asked. "Can't say anyone's ever said my tea lacks flavor. If anything, I get accused of making it too strong."

He took the doll's drink from him without ceremony and he tried a sip himself. "Hmm, seems fine to me, even if it's not my preferential cup 'o tea." He handed the drink back to Jase and he frowned at him. "That's interesting. _Very_ interesting. Pardon me a moment, love; I've got to fetch a couple of things from the basement."

He set his own tea aside and he got up to retrieve said items. He came back up a couple of moments later, with a tongue depressor in one hand and a magnifying lens in the other. "Close your eyes, Jase. I've got to have a look at your tongue and I need proper light to do it," he warned.

Jase hurriedly shut his eyes, not wanting to risk another headache. With his eyes closed tight, he opened his mouth so that the reaper could look at his tongue. The former human began to wonder if the reaper had any form of medical training. Sure, he may know about the dead…but maybe he also knew about the living…

Seeing that the young man's eyes were shut, Undertaker went to the light switch and clicked it on. He put both of his medical items in one hand, and he cupped his doll's chin to tilt his head back before applying the depressor to his tongue and having a look.

"Apex looks normal," he muttered as he examined the surface of the tongue, hardly aware he was speaking out loud. "The fungiform papillae appear undamaged, as does the midline groove and the filliform papillae. The foliate papillae look a bit scalded...but dollie doesn't seem to register temperature differences the way normal organic creatures would, so that part is likely my fault. I should test the temperature of hot drinks before offering them, from now on."

He practically sounded as though he were talking to someone that wasn't there, rattling off his observances. "The terminal sulcus is also irritated, but that shouldn't account for a lack of taste sensation."

Undertaker released Jase's jaw and he stepped back, watching him with troubled, green-gold eyes. "There is no physical accounting for the loss of his sense of taste, so that leaves..."

He stopped himself, jarred out of his ramblings by the reminder that his subject was alive and quite capable of hearing him...and panicking.

"…Leaves what?" The doll shifted and tilted his head in the direction he could hear the ruffling of Undertaker's robes, "Why can't I taste anything?" he reached out blindly, is fingers locating and curling around the long sleeves that the reaper wore, "Please, tell me…"

Undertaker paused in the action of pacing away, and he looked down at the distressed young man. Silently cursing himself for his carelessness, he decided it was best to be candid with him.

"A diminished sense of taste and touch are both symptoms of brain damage." He squatted down before Jase to prevent him from trying to climb out on his own, and he sighed. "Your lack of response to temperature—combined with the numbed flavor receptors—has me a bit concerned, I admit. If you were stronger, I could perform some simple muscle coordination exercises with you to see if you have other symptoms, but we may have to settle for localized skin sensory tests, for now."

Undertaker glanced down at the doll's legs, bent and tucked up in a cozy position beneath the robes that practically swallowed him. "We can start with the outer extremities. We'll test your fingers, hands and arms, then we'll try out the toes, feet and legs. I already know you aren't lacking sensation in your torso."

He grinned at the memory of how Jase had giggled impulsively when he'd tickled him, and the old Undertaker—the one who used to be so loyal and dedicated to reaping—came forth in his mind to sternly remind him that this was no laughing matter. He sobered and he looked at the doll, admiring the sweep of his lashes framing his closed eyelids.

"Let's finish the tea and fashion that blindfold for you, first," he said. "Despite your odd symptoms, your coordination seems to be improving with each moment, and I think we can spare a few to enjoy the refreshment."

Jase's eyes widened, though he was quick to shut them and shield his eyes with his arm, dropping Undertaker's sleeve. "Brain…damage..?" he slumped, pulling up his legs and hugging them, "It couldn't be anything else?" He hated not being able to taste. He was a Frenchman, after all, he enjoyed savoring good food, even if, as a priest, he was rarely afforded the chance to eat such.

"If I find no other symptoms related to brain damage, it may well be something else," answered the reaper. "First we need to obtain a more solid diagnosis, love." There was a possibility that his inability to feel temperature shifts and taste food could just be a temporary effect of waking up, but Undertaker didn't want to make that call and give the young man false hope. He dimmed the lights again and gave Jase his tea back.

While the unhappy doll sipped his tea, Undertaker chatted with him. He found himself trying to comfort him without even realizing it. He nearly told him that he'd found his wood carving set amongst his belongings and promised to bring some lumber for him to use when his coordination improved enough for it, but he realized he didn't know for sure if Jase would ever regain enough coordination to practice his art, again.

He decided to keep the crafting set hidden and to himself, until he knew his dollie could use it again. Instead, he began to tell him jokes and limericks, hoping to bring at least a hint of a smile to his tragic, comely features. Again, he wasn't sure _why_ he was so concerned with the doll's emotional state, but it troubled him to see him so glum.

"...And the carpenter yelled: 'what's _wrong_ with you lot, did you think I was dead?'" He finished his third tale of humor with a cackle. "Two people at the wake dropped dead of a heart attack then and there, but the carpenter was just unconscious from hitting his head as he fell off the ladder."

When Jase didn't crack a smile, Undertaker tried something that didn't involve someone's unfortunate demise. "Knock, knock."

The doll stared at him, his brows furrowed.

"Come on, now." Undertaker rapped his knuckles against his coffin lid. "Knock, knock."

"I'm afraid I don't understand that one…" the doll mumbled, sipping the last of his tea, which had long gone cold, which he of course couldn't notice. He watched as Undertaker seemed to sigh and explained to him quickly that it was a joke he had to partake in, pretending 'knock, knock' was someone actually knocking at the door, and to go on from there. Setting down his empty tea beaker, he complied, "Yes? Who is it?" He had to admit, the man was trying hard to raise his spirits, the least he could do was try to understand the man's dark sense of humor.

"Nobel," answered the reaper with a boyish, wide grin.

"Nobel…do I know a 'Nobel'?"

"Oh dear," muttered Undertaker beneath his breath.

"This is the part where you ask; 'Nobel who'," he informed patiently.

Jase bit his lip, "Sorry… Nobel, who?" he repeated.

"You've got no bell," answered Undertaker, "that's why I knocked!" He laughed heartily and slapped his knee, thoroughly enjoying the punch line even though he'd had to fight an uphill battle to get to it. He saw Jase's lips quirk the slightest bit, and he winked at him. "Go on, you can't tell me that one wasn't at least a _little_ amusing!"

Jase's gaze softened, his small smile lingering on his lips as he gave a small chuckle. The man really was trying so hard to help him…it was rude to simply sit there and say that he didn't appreciate any of it. He leaned over, reaching out and took the reaper's large hand in his, "Thank you."

Undertaker had a feeling that Jase's soft, brief laughter was more out of courtesy than true amusement, but he was used to people not getting his jokes. The endearing way he'd reached out to take his hand made up for the slight disappointment he felt, and he looked down at the smaller hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. That one small gesture of gratitude and trust showed that he'd at least succeeded in comforting the doll, and that was better than nothing.

When they finished their drinks, Undertaker helped Jase lie down into a more comfortable position, and he bade him wait there while he went downstairs to fetch some things from the basement. When he came back up with his instrument roll and spread it out on the lid of the coffin he'd been sitting on, Jase looked concerned.

"Not to worry," soothed Undertaker. "I've got no plans to cut you, pet. I'm just going to poke around a little. It might not be comfortable, but I'll try to get through it quick. All I need you to do is try to relax and tell me how things feel. Understand?"

Jase nodded and tried to relax again against the soft silken pillow within the casket he lay within. "Why do you have so many coffins?" he asked, knowing that there were at least three in the small building they occupied.

"Because up until recently, I worked as a mortician," explained Undertaker. He selected a curved suturing needle, and he took Jase's left hand to begin. "Even after retiring from work as a Grim Reaper, I felt most comfortable around the dead, so I took up a job few mortals are willing to take. I learned all about human biology and mortuary science, and I put that knowledge toward maintaining the dead. Took me a pretty chunk of years to perfect my art, but someone like me has all the time in the world to practice, right? I used to do autopsies for the Yard when they had a body suspected of being the result of foul play, and I used to pretty up the dead for their special day."

He lightly pricked the pads of Jase's fingers, one by one. He applied just enough pressure to make it sting, without piercing the skin. The fingers twitched reflexively with each prick. "Not many people really give a care to the dead, you know. Once you're gone, you're so much cold meat to most humans—save for the ones that loved you. I didn't pretty them up for _them_ , though. I did it for the deceased. Mortals are never so revered and loved by their kin as they are on the day of their funeral. Even if they aren't around to appreciate it, I think they should look their best for it."

Undertaker ran his fingernails lightly over the inside of Jase's arm, from the bicep to the wrist. Jase shivered a little in response to the caress, and goosebumps sprang up. "How does that feel?" inquired the reaper, doing it once more. He glanced at Jase's eyes as he caressed the soft skin. "Any numbness?"

"Mm…" The doll shook his head slowly, "It tickles slightly…" he paused, "Please don't tickle me again like you had in the tub…that was too much." He smiled and looked up at the reaper, "Aren't you lonely, though? Only being around the dead?"

Undertaker was briefly enchanted by the little smile, and it took him a moment to register what the doll was saying. He smiled brightly at him, displaying rows of teeth in a Cheshire Cat grin. "Hmm, now I know how to keep you in line if you give me any sass. I can tickle you into submission."

He made as if to do just that, pretending to lunge at the doll with his fingers hooked into claws, and when Jase yelped and cringed in the coffin, the reaper burst into laughter.

"Ah, my, that was entertaining," he said. He moved to the other side of the coffin and he took Jase's right hand to repeat the sensory tests. "To answer your question, I suppose it does get lonely now and then. I chat to them, but they never chat back. It's ironic, if I think about it, because I don't much care for chatty humans that don't really say much of anything. I've gotten into the habit of talking to myself a lot, and sometimes I forget when I'm around someone that can talk back."

Undertaker winked at him. "But I'm sure you haven't noticed that little quirk."

"Only every other word out of your mouth…I never know if you want me to answer back or not…" Jase admitted, feeling his fingers being pricked one-by-one. Each time his fingers jerking away.

"Ah, I do apologize for that, love. I'll try to curb that little habit, but it may take some time for me to get used to having sentient company again."

Undertaker released his right wrist and he moved on to his feet. He pulled Jase's borrowed robes up to expose his legs to the thigh, stopping before he would have exposed his groin. "I'll need to test your sensory responses in your legs, too," he explained when the doll looked a little uncomfortable.

He deliberately kept his touch clinical now, noticing the little blush on Jase's cheeks. Victorian modesty aside, the young man was an innocent in the ways of the flesh, and since his goal was to comfort him while he worked, Undertaker kept that in mind. Jase really _did_ have a nice pink blush, though.

He pricked his toes for a reaction, unable to clearly see his face from this distance as he did so. "I loved my job as a mortician, truthfully," he said conversationally to him. "I learned so much from it. Guess I've buggered _that_ all up now."

"Why—is that?" Jase gasped, his toes curling in protest of being pricked, "Why can't you still be one?" Propping himself up on his elbows, he gazed over at the silver haired man who had a content look upon his face with each prick to a toe he gave, "If that is your God-given—if that is your passion, why leave it? Why stop being a mortician at all?" he corrected himself. He was so used to giving God credit for everything…but it just didn't seem the case in reality. It didn't feel right.

A rare frown crept onto Undertaker's lips. "Because things change. Because if word gets out that I'm back in business, they'll come for me again." He put the needle aside, and he absently traced the scar winding diagonally down his face. There was another scar around his pinky finger, and then there was the more noticeable one ringing his pale throat. "And I'll be forced to cut down every single one of them—again—until they finally take _me_ down. I once told a young Earl that killers don't stop until someone makes them."

He looked at Jase, squinting through his bangs to see him better. "I don't do it on a whim, you understand. I don't seek victims out, but I don't hesitate to strike down anyone that gets in my way, either. Of all the creatures in this world, I think you may be the only one utterly safe from my death scythe. You're my masterpiece, after all."

"…Killer…" Jase repeated, shivering at the thought, "But…isn't killing and being a Grim Reaper two different things? And why are 'they' after you? Why would they need to take you down? There is nothing wrong with such an occupation…"

Undertaker smirked, and he tested the sensory perception in the young man's legs, one at a time. "Ah, but I _have_ killed, Jase, and not just to collect souls. I killed my own kind when they came to take my scythe from me. I wouldn't be parted with it. 'Deserter', they called me, because I came to question what sort of an existence I had. I got tired of being a tool for the Divine...a dog on a leash...so I broke free of that leash."

Satisfied that the doll had complete feeling in all extremities now, Undertaker eased the robes back down over his legs and he went to pour him another cup of tea. Seeing as Jase currently had no sense of taste, he didn't bother adding to it. He came back, handed the beaker to the young man and he waited until he had a good hold on it, before letting go.

"I turned in my glasses the day I decided there was more to life than reaping. I wanted to understand how life worked, not just collect the souls when it expired. Learning such a thing required time I couldn't spare as a soul harvester, so I opted to give up the status and privileges that came with it. I made a fake replica of my scythe and turned it in with my glasses."

Undertaker grinned at the vague, old memory. "They didn't like that one bit, but the truth is once a reaper has been in 'business' for long enough, he becomes so attuned to his scythe that there's really no way to force him to give it up. It takes several hundred years for the bond to reach that level of strength, though, and a lot of reapers don't live for that long. They could have taken it off of me, and I simply would have called it back. Once a reaper has attuned this strongly to his scythe, he must _consciously_ choose to part with it, in order to lose attunement with it. I wasn't willing to give it up."

Undertaker stood up and manifested the item he spoke of: a fantastically deadly thing, with the huge, curved blade sprouting from the side of a silver skull bearing a crown of thorns. Undertaker propped the foot of the scythe against the floor like a staff, and he leaned against it comfortably. He smiled and tilted his head, his thick, moon-pale hair straggling around his shoulders and down his back. A creature of beauty, darkness and danger, he stood over his doll and further explained his past.

"A few reapers thought they'd make a name for themselves by coming after me to take it by force. I suppose they had short attention spans, or they didn't believe I was so attuned to my scythe that it couldn't be done." His smile faded into a frown, and his eyes unfocused with the memory of the blood, the screams, the betrayal and his own near death.

"They nearly finished me," he whispered. His bright smile returned abruptly, his mood shifting without warning. "But I was the one to survive. Dispatch left me alone after that, and I was free to pursue my new passion—so long as I didn't break the tenets of Shinigami law. It all went fine until I finally started to get bored again, a couple of years ago. Then I met the Viscount and he gave me an interesting proposition...so interesting that I couldn't pass it up. That's when I made my dollies, and when some of the reaper agents found out about it, I became a fugitive."

Undertaker banished his scythe and sat back down on the coffin beside Jase's, retrieving his now room temperature tea and having a sip of it. "How's _that_ for a long-winded tale, eh? Now you know why we won't be staying here for more than a few days."

"Because of your dolls…so I'm illegal?" Jase observed, "Would they destroy me because I'm not supposed to exist? Why create me if it is my kind that caused you to be on the run in the first place?"

Undertaker had a chuckle at Jase's use of the word 'illegal'. "Funny, I'm your master and yet you're the one referring to yourself as though you were cargo. I suppose you aren't wrong, though. You shouldn't exist in this state according to Shinigami law, and they may very well try to destroy you, if they discover your nature. They'll have to go through me first, though."

Undertaker considered him quietly for a few moments, at a bit of a loss to explain some of his own feelings on the matter. Jase was precious to him because he represented the pinnacle of his achievements, and that alone was enough reason for him to protect him and keep him. It was more than that, though. He'd gotten to know him a bit when he was fooling with his records, but there was a difference between watching a person's events and getting to know their thoughts and feelings. He was curious to learn more about what made Jase who he was, and what drove him.

"As I said to you before; I created you because I wanted to see if it could be done," Undertaker sighed at last. "It's the same reason I created the other Bizarre Dolls. I was willing to risk the backlash, for the sake of knowledge."

"It is not fair, but people are often treated as unequal to others." Jase pointed out, "Women under men, colored skin under white… c'est un ramassis de conneries si vous me demandez. I have known women who are stronger than men, and get less then half the respect. I am no longer human…it would not surprise me if I am now seen as below all others because of it. And if the others you had created are seen as such, I would be no different, even if I still have my memories…"

"Yes, it's foolishness," agreed Undertaker, "but you are correct: hierarchies are the way of things, be it in the animal, human or supernatural worlds. You aren't _below_ them, however. You're _above_ them, now. You've become something greater than human."

Undertaker leaned toward him, and he reached out to slide his fingers beneath Jase's chin, urging him to look at him. In the shadowed, dim light, the doll's pupils had expanded ever so slightly from the barely visible pinpoints to something almost human in size. Undertaker smiled at him, and he caressed his face with his nails.

"I can sense that spark in you...that flame. I believe it holds some of the answers to both our questions, and I also believe this was fated to happen. It will be very interesting to see what gifts you may develop, from this. I'm quite confident you'll survive, now."

Jase stayed silent, gazing up at the reaper's face, and nearly getting lost in his eyes once more. "Do you regret it? Giving up your life as you had been living it? Your home? A life on the run…isn't it stressful?" He shifted so that his legs were under him again, "You left your status or whatever because you wanted freedom…and being on the run…isn't that giving up the freedom you had wished for?"

Undertaker pulled his hand away with a frown of thought. He could certainly say one thing for the little chap; he made him exercise his noggin. "Hmm, interesting point." He shrugged, and he took another sip of his tea. "Maybe I _have_ traded one prison for another, but I still say where I go and when. I answer to no-one, and I've satisfied my curiosity. As you spend time with me, you will come to see that I'm a very, very curious reaper. I need to learn, and I need to laugh. Life would be so dull, without these things."

"And what about love or companionship? Family? Friends? I imagine even a grim reaper would need something of the sort…someone to talk to…It's why you talk out loud to yourself, isn't it? It's…" Jase paused and lowered his voice and gaze as he realized something, "It's why you started making Dolls…why you made me…at least part of it may have been out of loneliness and a need for companionship…"

Undertaker stared wordlessly at him and sipped his tea. The expression on his pallid, sculpted features was guarded.

Jase stared him down, "…am I wrong?" he finally asked after the minutes had ticked by. His throat felt tight. What if he was wrong? What if the reaper didn't seek companionship? That he created Jase's new life simply because he could, rather than in hopes of a…friend? He didn't know why, but the thought was painful.

Undertaker hesitated, lowering his gaze. The thick fringe of silver lashes concealed what little was visible of his vivid eyes, beneath the unruly locks of bangs partially falling over them. "Beyond the dead, I honestly can't say I've had anyone I could call 'friend' for years beyond count. Those I once worked with turned on me, and humans are so...fleeting. Like befriending a moth, to someone with my longevity."

He gave the former priest a rueful smirk. "Maybe a part of me did it out of a desire for companionship, after all. Perceptive little bugger, aren't you?"

"I'm a man who knows loneliness." Jase shrugged, "I joined the Priesthood because of it. The church…became more of a family than my father ever had been, and after Joyelle left to start her own life…the church was all I had left…so I devoted myself too it. I had need for nothing, and people needed me…even if it was only for confession or comfort. I was needed." He leaned forward, gingerly brushing the reaper's bangs aside to better gaze into his eyes, "Your eyes hold much…power, wisdom, age…but they have a glimmer of loneliness and need…at least in that, I can understand fully."

Undertaker tilted his head a bit, trying to recall the last time a living being other than a child or a mentally afflicted person had willingly reached out to touch him at all, without fear. Mortals tended to find him creepy in his mortician guise, and beautiful—yet terrifying—when he revealed his face to them. They thought him an angel of death. He was certainly no angel, but at least they got the part about death right.

He reached up to lay a long hand over Jase's smaller one, before it could withdraw. He pressed it against his scarred cheek, and he smiled at him. "What remarkable vision you have, my dear. Funny, I never really like to think of myself as 'lonely', but your words have a ring of truth to them."

"Then let me stay…not just as your 'masterpiece', but as your friend…" Jase whispered, letting his hand linger and be pressed against the man's scarred cheek.

Undertaker withdrew his hand from on top of Jase's, thinking over his proposition. Generally a master would never call his minion 'friend', but he hadn't exactly been treating him as a servant so far, anyhow. There was something more complex in this newfound relationship than 'master and servant'. He could almost believe he might have found someone with the potential to understand him—a thing that no others could boast.

Even if he was wrong about that, there was no harm in playing nice. This was no mindless zombie. This dollie could think and reason, and he was far too charming for his own good.

"I can hardly comprehend the concept of friendship, any longer," admitted the reaper softly. He gazed into the swirly blue eyes of his companion, and he shrugged. "You may have to teach me how that works, love."

"A friend…is someone you can trust and talk to…spend time with…care about…someone who'll be there for you when you need it." He withdrew his fingers, "I won't let you feel lonely."

Undertaker wasn't sure how ready he was to trust anyone, but he'd already spoken of things to Jase that he hadn't talked about in what felt like ages. The sincerity in the young man's voice and expression endeared the ancient reaper to him, if only because he truly seemed to believe he needed someone and despite his own situation, he was offering himself as that...friend.

He didn't quite know how to respond to the unexpected kindness. He wasn't usually a recipient of such a thing, and there was still a chance that Jase could sicken and perish. His body was still unusually warm, and though Undertaker was beginning to suspect that was now the norm for him, he didn't intend to brush it off until he knew for certain.

Finally, he thought of something to say in response to his offer. "Are you so sure you want death as a friend?"

"Are you sure you want a man who dedicated his life to God all because a pretty girl stole his heart and then ran off with another man?" Jase countered, "It's not what you are…it's who you are. And besides, I have already promised you I'd stay. And though I'm a man of my word…a friend would be nice…"

Undertaker chuckled at the first bit, and he nodded at the second. "You raise interesting points. Very well, then, we'll try it your way." So far, Jase had been nothing but cooperative with him. It surprised him that he would accept his fate so readily, but then he'd demonstrated a greater stoicism than average. Some people were simply more resilient to suffering.

Undertaker took out his pocketwatch when he realized how dark the room was getting. He whistled softly at the time, "It's already past four in the afternoon. My, my, how time soars."

He looked at his new 'friend', taking note of his hair's tangled state. He couldn't really give it a good wash and a brush until his scalp healed some more, but by the looks of it, that wouldn't take long. Jase had already shown signs of healing much faster than a human being. Thinking of that little difference made him consider other things that may or may not have changed. The doll had fully functioning organs, and he'd been drinking all day since Undertaker took him out of the bathroom.

Never the most subtle reaper, he'd picked up on London slang and his mouth was prone to going off before his mind could censor it, "Do you need a piss?"

Jase's face flushed and his expression turned to one of embarrassment, "There are more delicate ways of asking such a thing, Undertaker!" he protested.

Realizing what he'd said and again recalling that Jase was neither a corpse nor a ruffian, it was Undertaker's turn to be embarrassed. In fact, he was so mortified that he felt his cheeks warming up oddly—an unfamiliar, yet interesting experience for him.

"Er, right. That wasn't very...ahem. Well, if your innards still basically function the way they did when you were mortal...um, it stands to reason that you may need to...uh...powder your nose."

Undertaker looked around for his hat, suddenly wanting to cram it on his head as far down as it would go, to hide his face as completely as possible. It was clear on the other side of the room, of course, hanging on the rusty hook by the front door. He couldn't remember the last time he'd actually been flustered.

"I…do have the slight urge to…" Jase muttered, no longer making eye-contact.

Hardly blaming him, Undertaker nodded. He hastily got up and went to grab his hat, and he felt much better once he'd stuffed his head into it and rearranged his fringe to again cover his eyes. He scratched his head, still blushing himself and completely unaware of it.

"Let's see if you can stand on your own," he suggested. "If you can, all I've got to do is help you into the potty and wait outside the door."

"Is there anything I could use to hold myself up in there? That might help…" Jase suggested, looking at anything but Undertaker.

The reaper considered the problem. "Ah, the towel racks!" He snapped his fingers. "Of course, they might break off the wall, but you're so slight in weight, they could do the trick. Otherwise you may have to—"

He stopped himself from using the word 'piss' again. He considered using clinical terms, but somehow 'urinate' didn't sound any classier. "Y-you might have to do your business sitting down," he finished, wondering why in blazes he was so embarrassed. He supposed it was because he couldn't remember the last time someone had actually called him out on his behavior. Ciel Phantomhive came close, but his dry, cool observations weren't the same as Jase's properly scandalized reaction.

"…One good thing about being so puny, I suppose…" Jase sighed, then finally looked up at Undertaker, "Mind helping me up before the urge becomes a little more…urgent?" he bit his lip. How embarrassing it was to need help simply to go relieve himself. He truly hoped that he would regain his strength and could walk for himself—and soon.

"Of course," answered the reaper.

He'd intended to anyway, but he was so fascinated by the feel of the heat in his face that he completely forgot. He approached the doll and he bent over him, offering his hands. Jase took them and Undertaker lifted him to his feet. Jase's grip on his hands was still weak, but with Undertaker's support, he was able to balance on his feet. The reaper helped him out of the coffin, refraining from picking him up and carrying him like a...well, like a doll.

"That's it," he encouraged. "One foot at a time."

With one arm around the small man's waist, he guided him to the toilet, next to the bathroom. It was a small space, so in addition to using the towel rack as support, Jase could probably lean back against the wall. Undertaker left the light off to spare his sensitive eyes, and he helped him through the doorway. When Jase had a firm hold on the rack against the wall, the reaper cautiously released him.

Jase wobbled a little, but his legs held steady. Satisfied that he wouldn't pitch head-first into the toilet the moment he turned his back on him, Undertaker backed out of the room and he closed the door, leaving it open just a crack so there was at least a little bit of light for Jase to see with in the windowless room. He leaned against the wall outside the door and he put his face in one palm, shaking his head.

The little chap really did have an effect on him.

"Let me know when you've finished up," he called softly. His stomach growled and he remembered that it was getting close to dinnertime, but first, he needed to finish gathering some things from his old shop.

Leaning back against the wall, Jase hiked up the robes and unsteadily positioned himself. A moment later, he was finished and sighed, dropping the robes and flushing before calling out, "Alright, I've finished."

Undertaker went in to retrieve him, and he helped support him while he washed his hands in the basin. Feeling him tremble, he presumed he'd used up most of the reserves of his strength. When they stepped back out into the main room, Undertaker scooped him into his arms just as the doll's legs began to buckle.

"That's still better than you did when you woke up," he said to him with a smirk, and then he carried him over to the coffin to ease him back down into it. He refilled the water pitcher and replaced it by Jase's coffin, and he looked around in thought.

"Bare as bones, this place is." He sighed. "But I can't just leave you with nothing to do while I'm gone."

With that in mind, he left Jase and he went down into the basement. He retrieved a shuttered lantern that should provide enough light for Jase to read by without hurting his sensitive eyes, and he chose a few books. One was a beginner's medical book that he intended to get Jase started on. The young man said that he liked to help people, so Undertaker reasoned that it wouldn't be too difficult to get him to study medicine. He could introduce the more gruesome things later, once he could determine how strong Jase's constitution was. He snatched a book of limericks and another book of fairy tales, before heading back up the stairs.

"Here we are," Undertaker sang out happily, grinning beneath his bangs. "I'd like you to get started on the medical studies as soon as possible, but I'm sure your head can only take so much right now."

He sat down on the shut coffin next to Jase's and he showed him the books. "This one's for learning," he said, "and these other two are just for fun. I'll get this lantern started for you to read by, and when I get back I'll fashion that blindfold I promised you and cook a meal. There should be enough water in that pitcher to sustain your thirst while I'm gone."

"Thank you…" Jase picked up the medical book, "It may take me quite a while…I didn't focus much on learning to read English, as I had learning to speak it…don't be surprised if you come back and I have marked a bunch of words I can't figure out…English is such a complicated language…" he glanced down at the other two books, "Maybe I should start with those ones, though…" Sighing, he looked up at Undertaker with a small smile, "Where are you going this time?"

"I'm just gathering a few things from my old shop, while I still can," he answered. "Tomorrow, I'll begin tutoring you. I imagine it'll be much easier for you to follow if you've got me reading the material for you and explaining it. We'll begin physical therapy, too. The best way to recover strength in the muscles is with stretching and exercise."

Undertaker grinned down at him. "We can also slip you into your own clothes. I don't know how you feel about wearing your old priestly garb, but it's surely better than swimming in mine 'till we can have something more suitably tailored for you."

Jase nodded, "I'll be fine for now with my robes. Anything is better than being exposed." He said, slipping Undertaker's robe back up his shoulder after it had slid down, "I'll be here when you get back."

Satisfied that his dollie would be okay on his own for a little while longer than before, Undertaker checked the concealing aura around his temporary residency first. It was what masked his presence from anyone with the ability to detect and track reaper auras. While it was a wonderful way to hide his dwelling from Dispatch, he would need to move on again soon. The fastest way to get caught was to stay in one place for too long. Eventually, he'd probably need to leave London altogether, but that was a concern for later.

Undertaker locked up and left Jase alone. He didn't bother hailing a carriage. Instead he cloaked himself from mortal sight and he took to the rooftops, running and jumping over them with ease typical of his kind. He sped across the city swiftly, his boots hardly touching the icy rooftops as they tread on them. He stopped across the street from his shop, and he nearly overbalanced and pitched right over the top of the roof of the flower shop.

"Oh, bugger," muttered the reaper. In the dying evening light, he saw two people standing outside his shop, and one of them was easy to recognize even without visual aid to correct his nearsightedness. The crimson shade of his long hair was a dead giveaway, even if his complaints wouldn't have been.

"This is ridiculous," snapped Grell Sutcliff to his companion—whom Undertaker couldn't recognize from this distance. "What makes them think he's going to be foolhardy enough to come back here?"

Undertaker smirked, even as he hunkered down behind a roof structure, just in case. Apparently, Sutcliff didn't know him very well.

"Senpai," called another familiar, young voice a moment later. Undertaker dared a peek to see Ronald Knox stepping out of his shop.

"He's cleaned the place out," explained the blond with a sigh. "I checked all the coffins and everything. The place looks like a tornado hit it. I don't know how he snuck in with us watching the place, but Undertaker's been here and gone since we got back."

"Well, isn't that just _perfect_ ," groused Sutcliff. "Yet _another_ gorgeous man has eluded me." The redhead flipped his bright locks over his shoulder in a dramatic gesture of frustration.

Undertaker couldn't see the details of Ronald's expression from this distance, but he got the distinct impression that the young man was worried about his mentor. "You really need to be more selective with your love interests. I think you like pain a little too much."

"Love is pain," insisted Grell. He looked at the reaper beside him and he shrugged. "Stay here and guard this dump with the others, while Ronnie and I report back. I've had enough for the day."

He and Ronald created a portal back to their home realm, while the other reaper went back inside the shop. Undertaker sighed. He had no way of knowing how many he'd find waiting for him in there, if he tried to go inside to retrieve the rest of his volumes. If he didn't have his dollie to take care of, he might have tried to get them anyway, but he decided it was best not to tempt fate. He could take risks when he was sure Jase could take care of himself, should anything happen to him.

Grumbling with disappointment, the ancient made his way back across the city, silently biding his old shop adieu.

* * *

 

English was hard. The bizarre doll gave a frustrated grumble as he reached yet another word he couldn't make out. Whoever came up with how they spell things in English must have been heavy on the drink. Oh how he missed his own beautiful language of his homeland…

" _Le français est beaucoup plus facile à comprendre. Anglais ne peut même pas suivre ses propres règles_..." he scowled to himself, snapping the book closed once more.

He paused when the door opened, sooner than he thought it would, and he looked up from the frustrating page of limericks to see Undertaker walking in and hanging his hat upon the old hook by the door. Jase smiled, " _Bienvenue à la maison_." He greeted before realizing that in his frustration of the book, he'd resorted back to French, "Welcome home." He translated.

Undertaker looked up from the keys he was fiddling with, and he gave him one of his broad, white-toothed grins. "Greeting me in both languages, pet? I feel loved!"

He crossed the room to him, moving like a creature of air for all the noise his footfalls made. He peered down at the book in Jase's hand. "Ah, good choice! That's one of my favorites for a chuckle. Are you enjoying it?"

"No," Jase admitted with another frustrated sigh, "Seeing as I can hardly get every third word…it comes out a bunch of gibberish." He looked up, "Did you get what you needed? You are back earlier than I thought you would be."

The bright smile faded, and Undertaker shook his head. "Alas, no. My shop was being watched by the people I'm trying to avoid, so I thought I'd better not chance it. Instead, I picked up a roast from the market on the way back."

He held up the burlap sack containing the meat. "I'll just season this up and pop it into the oven with some potatoes and carrots. While it's cooking, I'll make you a couple blindfolds from one of my old robes. The material ought to be soft enough to wear comfortably for several hours, without chafing."

"Oh, I see…I hope it wasn't anything terribly important or precious to you that you had to leave behind…" Jase said, his hand moving to the locket around his neck, "But I'm glad they didn't spot you."

* * *

To be continued...

 


	4. Chapter 4

_Though Jase still couldn't taste anything and he didn't seem to be prone to hunger, he ate a bit with me that night. Afterwards, I made some blindfolds for him so that I could see what I was doing around the house at night, without hurting his eyes. I began to tutor him after that, teaching him to read English more easily and instructing him on human biology and medicine. Jase in turn helped me to improve my French, and the communication between us has improved, as a result. When his scalp healed enough for it, I gave him a nice, thorough head-wash, trimmed a little off the ends of his hair and brushed it for him. He really enjoyed that. I think I'll do it again, sometime._

_His strength and coordination have improved day by day, and he was able to walk on his own after three days of therapy. Jase doesn't care much for the exercises and stretches I put him through. His muscles and joints were stiff when he awoke from his transition, and training them to regain elasticity has been uncomfortable for him. He puts on a stiff upper lip and powers through it, hardly complaining at all._

_I'm not the best teacher in the world, but my dollie is eager to learn. He sits and listens so attentively as I show him the diagrams and explain in detail how each organ, sinew, bone, muscle and artery works. He puts up with my jokes—which I know are horrid to most people. He smiles politely and he even offers a chuckle here and there, but I know he's only being polite, most of the time. He seems to take more pleasure out of watching me crack myself up than in the puns and jokes, themselves._

_His temperature remains consistently high, and it climbs a bit each day. He must take an icy bath every few days to lower it again, or else he starts to get uncoordinated and confused, as any fevered person would. By contrast, my body temperature is lower than the average mortal, and he seems to unconsciously inch closer to me during lessons. Perhaps the chill of the reaper is soothing to him._

_I sometimes catch him reading passages in his bible, and he always hastily shuts it and looks uncomfortable when I do so. How do I tell this unique, tormented creature that giving his faith the silent treatment won't banish it forever? He longs for what he's lost, yet he resents his maker for what was done to him. Funny thing, that; I would expect him to resent me, since I turned him into a dollie in the first place. He doesn't seem to blame me for that, however. His anger lies with God and his angels. He says they are the ones who ultimately did this to him, by burning him with the holy flame. I did rob him of his death, though. He wouldn't be suffering this way, if it weren't for my intervention. I doubt I need to remind him of that; I can see it in his eyes sometimes._

_He's conflicted, my dollie. I think a part of him wants to hate me, but his heart is too generous to allow that. As for myself, I don't think I'm a very good friend. It's a new experience for me, and though I'm ultimately just humoring him to keep him cooperative and healthy, I do try. I tease him when he falters, my mouth runs away with me and I say things that offend his sensibilities, but then he always gives me that forgiving little smile. He has dimples when he smiles. A fellow could get used to that._

_Unfortunately, I don't think my dollie's sense of taste and temperature perception will ever return. It has been a week, and I haven't seen any sign of improvement. I've concluded that he doesn't require food any longer, in fact. That's a shame, because I know how he envies me the ability to enjoy my food. I've begun to take my meals in the kitchen, when he's studying. It troubles me to see that wistful look in his eyes, and it makes objectivity more difficult to come by._

_His thirst remains unquenchable. Though he can't smell or taste the aroma or flavor of tea or juice, he'll drink anything that will offer some small relief. I had to stop him from drinking some coffee I'd brewed the other morning, as it would only serve to dehydrate him further._

_I've never had someone all my own, before. I've had associates, underlings, bosses and of course my dollies, but there was no exchange of affection in any of those relationships...not like I have now with Jase. It's interesting, and a bit disturbing at times._

_Poor dollie, and poor Undertaker. Why do I feel sorry for myself, you ask? Well, the answer is rather simple. I'm becoming attached to him, to my little experiment. I see that now, and I admit to myself that some of my acts of charity aren't done solely for practical purposes. I...enjoy seeing some of the tragedy fade from his eyes whenever I do something that cheers him up._

_I caught him watching me brush my hair this morning, and he looked as though he wanted to offer to help me with it, but was too shy. Perhaps I'm only inventing the covert looks of interest, but I think my dollie shares my attraction, and he struggles with that. The good book likely has him convinced his wanker will catch fire if he so much as kisses me. Still, I wonder what he would do if I cupped his face and lip-locked with him. Would he struggle? Would he cry? Or would he, perhaps, put his arms around his master and return his kisses?_

_Where was I? Oh, right. We'll have to pack up and get moving, soon. I've lingered too long in one place as it is. I haven't yet decided where we'll go from here, but perhaps Jase has a suggestion for me. Much as I loathe using the queen's currency, my priorities shifted when I began working with the Aurora Society, because I knew I'd have the law of both realms after me if I got discovered. Viscount Druitt paid me handsomely for my contribution to the cause, and I've amassed further wealth from his associates in Germany. I have enough in my coffers to get us by for several months, and I can do odd jobs on the side to keep those coffers filled._

_It's a pity. I would still prefer a laugh over cash payment, but sometimes we must put aside what we want and take what we need, instead._

* * *

Jase walked into the main room from the kitchen, holding a glass of water. A blue ribbon pulled back his long hair in a loose ponytail that rested over his shoulder. Shortly after he had regained the ability to walk, Undertaker had taken him out to be fitted for a few outfits to replace his priestly robes. He supported a light blue blouse layered under a dark blue waistcoat and black slacks. His locket hung around his neck, rather than where most men would wear a tie or ascot, and a silver pocket watch lay in his waistcoat pocket, the beads from his old rosary decorating the chain.

He looked around the room, spotting Undertaker over at a table that the man used as his desk, scribbling away in a journal. He approached silently, reaching out and grabbing a book from the edge of the table and walking over to sit in the old chair in the corner of the room. His blindfold was on, but his blindfolds were very lace-like and allowed him to see through them so that he wasn't fully blind when he was in brighter light, and it did feel good to sit in the sunlight that came through the window near the chair, even if it made him warmer faster.

Undertaker detected the motion, though his eyes remained on his journal. He felt a momentary flash of alarm at the thought of Jase reading some of his entry over his shoulder, but he reminded himself that his spidery scrawl was difficult at best for others to read, and Jase was both blindfolded and still slow at reading as he learned how to. Deciding he was finished with the entry and getting bored, he put the pen away and he closed his the book. He locked the journal and he got out of his chair to approach the doll, who was sitting in a spot of sunlight in the chair in the corner of the room.

Mischievous as always, the retired reaper leaned over, letting his pale hair dangle over the book in Jase's hands. "What're you reading?"

"I'm trying the limericks again. I might get them now that I know a little more on how to read English." Tilting his head up, Jase looked through the blindfold at the reaper, "Did I interrupt what you were doing?"

"Not a bit," assured Undertaker. He realized that he hadn't given Jase the same courtesy, and though the young man was too polite to say so, he didn't seem to be in the mood for play.

Undertaker resisted a sigh and he withdrew from Jase's light. "Well, I'll leave you to it, then. We've got your therapy in an hour and lessons after that, so enjoy yourself. I'd like to discuss possible new locations with you, when we've finished the day's lessons."

He checked his pocket watch. "Hopefully, the delivery will arrive on time."

"Delivery? What delivery?" The doll asked, his interest perked, "And if you wish to speak with me, you need only say so. I only chose to sit with a book in hand as you looked busy on something important." Snapping the book shut, he shifted over in the chair, leaning on the armrest with folded arms, the book dangling from his fingers off the side.

Taking a moment to appreciate the serene picture he made, Undertaker replaced his watch. "This afternoon's medical instruction is going to be special. I've got—"

There was a knock at the door, and Undertaker paused, turned and smiled. "Oh, that must be our delivery, now! How lovely."

He went to the door, checked through the peep-hole and unlocked it. He took his hat off the hook to place it on his head, before turning the knob. A couple of rough looking men stood waiting on the other side, and they immediately shrank away when the tall, silver-haired reaper opened the door and grinned down at them like they were candy on a platter.

Jase set aside the book in his hand and stood up, walking a little closer to the door for a curious, better look. Though he made sure to stick to the shadows as people often gave him strange looks for his blindfold, which had caused a confrontation of sorts the one time he left the little hideout to get fitted for his new wardrobe.

"Afternoon, gents," greeted Undertaker, tipping his hat.

"G-good afternoon," answered the man on the left—a pudgy, unshaven fellow with greasy dark hair and brown eyes. His young ginger friend stared at Undertaker with something between fear and curiosity.

"Got a body for ya," said the ginger in a heavy cockney accent. He nodded at the rickety, horse-drawn cart waiting in the street. He offered the reaper a burlap coin pouch, and he cringed a bit when Undertaker plucked it from his hand with his long, black nails. Undertaker weighed it in his palm before bringing it to his ear and giving a jingle. He turned a bit to see Jase peeking out behind him.

"You're short," he announced.

"Wh-what?" Jase bristled, his eyes widening behind his blindfold and a pink flush crossing his face from cheek to cheek, "What does my height have to do with anything? If anything—you're too tall!" He was a little sensitive about his size, and was fine with it only until someone pointed it out. Sure, the reaper had mentioned it once before, but he had been focused on other things, such as passing out a human and waking up an undead doll.

Undertaker stared blankly at his offended dollie, and he scratched his head in wonderment. "Eh? I didn't say a thing about your...your...oh." He started to chuckle as it dawned on him, and the chuckle soon became snickers—which led into outright guffaws of mirth. The humans backed away a little, and Jase's expressive young face managed to pull off an air of offended dignity, even with the blindfold veiling his glare.

Undertaker had to take a moment, before he could talk. He leaned against the doorframe and he laughed until he had tears in his eyes. The sun hid behind a cloud and a light snow began to fall. He finally caught his breath enough to talk again, and he held up the bag of coins.

"I meant the payment is short," he explained, jingling the pouch again to listen. He nodded and he looked at the dirty mortals waiting by the door. "This isn't the price we agreed on."

"It's all he gave us," answered the portly man. "You'll have ta take it up with the guvnor. All we did was bring the body and the coin."

Jase felt his face darken more at his misunderstanding…and he so dearly wanted to go curl up in the coffin that had somehow become his bed, and pull the soft silk pillow over his head…but he settled with simply backing up a few paces behind the open door where an icy draft was blowing in.

Casting one last amused glance at his diminutive, blushing companion, Undertaker returned his attention to the ruffians. "Let me ask you chaps something," he said, absently flicking a crawling bug off the shoulder of the younger one before he could so much as flinch. "When you were on your way here, did you happen to pocket a few coins for yourself?"

"I don't—" began the older one, and Undertaker suddenly loomed over him, with his eyes flashing beneath his bangs and his death's head grin uncommonly white.

"Hmm?" prompted the reaper, leaning over the shorter man until he was bending backwards. "Have a care with how you answer that, chump."

"I...I...I..."

"Something in your eye?" Undertaker grabbed the man around his thick throat, squeezing just enough to keep him from pulling away. "I could have a look." He wiggled the long-nailed fingers of his free hand, drawing the man's terrified gaze to it. "Course, I might put your whole eye out in the process, but it seems to be troubling you enough to distract you from answering me."

"All right, we took it!" yelled the ginger. "'Ere, ya crazy old bloke!" He dug a handful of coins from his pocket, and he tossed them at Undertaker's booted feet. He looked at his companion in alarm. "Just give it to 'em, Harvey!"

The older man was already digging in his pockets. More coins fell to the ground. Undertaker released his prisoner with a smile. "Pick those up and hand them to me properly."

They looked at each other, and the young one sighed and did as asked when his older companion nodded meaningfully. He gingerly offered the coins to Undertaker once he'd collected them, holding them out in his hand as if the reaper were a snake, ready to strike. Undertaker opened the pouch and pointed at it, and the ginger dropped the coins in.

"Now the body," reminded Undertaker when they made as if to climb back into their cart and go. "Bring it inside, gents. Be quick about it; the fellow isn't going to get any fresher while we stand around jawing in the snow."

Jase frowned, peeking out at the two men as they hurried to retrieve what they were meant to deliver, "Was that really necessary?" he asked in a tone that did little to hide his disappointment in the display.

Undertaker tucked his hands under his sleeves for warmth and he closed the door a bit to cut down on the amount of frigid air getting into the house. "If I allowed these fellows to take advantage of me, word would get out that I'm an easy mark."

He grinned at the gentle-natured, former priest. "What would you rather me do, beat it out of them?"

Jase flinched, "I'd rather you not resort to violence. It should be a last resort, never a first."

"Then you're in luck," reasoned Undertaker with a shrug. "I didn't resort to violence. I resorted to scaring the piss out of them."

Sighing, the doll shook his head and peaked out the window as the men came back, carrying something long and heavy, wrapped in a tarp. One man kicked the door open with his heel and they shifted inside, "Where d'ya want it?" one man asked, brushing by Jase at a hair's breath.

Jase stiffened, his eyes widening as, for the first time since he awoke as a Doll, felt his stomach twist in hunger, his mouth watering, and his hands twitching.

"Down those stairs behind me," answered the reaper, "in the basement. Drop it on the examination table there, and I'll take care of the rest."

With the older man carrying the head and shoulders and the younger carrying the feet, they started toward the staircase. "Hope ya plan to make good on your end," said the older man in a respectful, but warning tone. "The guvnor won't take it kindly if this fellow doesn't vanish like ya promised."

Undertaker crossed his arms over his torso, unconcerned. "Tell him he needn't worry about that. I've got a solution that'll melt the flesh right off of the bones, when I'm finished with him."

"And what'll ya do with the bones?" asked the younger man, looking over his shoulder with a curious, foreboding grimace.

Undertaker smiled. "Knife handles, candle holders, ash trays...there are so many useful things I can make from a human skeleton—even Jewelry."

Both men shuddered, and the young one looked like he was sorry he'd asked. Undertaker smirked at his dollie, anticipating a moral outburst from him. When he saw the look on his face, he frowned.

"That's not the face of the righteously indignant," he muttered. "Feeling sickly, are you?"

Jase ignored his companion, taking a few stiff steps forward, his eyes focused on the back of the older man's exposed neck. And then in the blink of an eye, he leapt forward, knocking over the larger man with surprising ease, his teeth sinking deep into the man's shoulder.

While the older fellow screamed and tried to shake the doll off of him, his younger companion dropped the feet of the body he was carrying and backed against the wall, his eyes huge in his face.

"Wha the 'ell's he doin?" shouted the ginger.

"Get him off me!" cried the older man in a panicked scream, "Oh god, get him off!"

Undertaker just stared stupidly for a minute, fascinated by the transformation in his dollie. Jase hadn't reacted like this to the presence of the tailor he took him to earlier in the week, and Undertaker knew damned well the man was just as human as these fellows. He watched for a moment, his mind spinning with possibilities. He'd gone straight for the older man. Was it a question of distance, or was there something that drew Jase's attention to him first?

Jase's victim managed to turn, and he was shoving his hands against the ravenous doll's chest, trying to hold him at bay. He put his hands around Jase's throat, and Undertaker's otherworldly senses told him that this man had used his hands in such a way before—to strangle the life out of a boy.

The tailor, on the other hand, was a kindly grandfather of two, who had never harmed anyone.

He thought he understood, then. Either Jase's hunger for living flesh hadn't kicked in yet at the clothing shop because he was so new, or...

"It's the _sinners_ you find so nummy," reasoned the ancient with a smile, "but not just _any_ sinners. Everybody sins, according to your dogma. It's the evildoers that you hunger for."

While he was standing there debating the nature of his pet's hunger, Jase was determined to make a meal of the ruffian he was wrestling with. The younger man was trying to pry Jase off of his companion, but the doll's supernatural strength was too great for him.

_"Don't let me hurt anyone! Don't let me harm an innocent!"_

Remembering the vow, Undertaker decided to shelf his suspicions to test them later. He crossed the room to the struggling group and he roughly shoved the ginger man off of his dollie, before grabbing Jase from behind to drag him away. His strength was much greater than the humans', and he pulled his resisting, flailing companion with him.

He was much stronger than the other bizarre dolls.

Undertaker remembered at the last moment that he'd employed some conditioning into Jase's cinematic records, and he made use of that now. Only his voice would work, and only the correct phrase would do it. "Jase, your master commands you to stop."

The doll stopped struggling in his arms, whimpering with frustration and need. Undertaker turned him around to face him, while the would-be snack got to his feet and pressed a hand against his bleeding shoulder. Jase had torn a nice chunk out of it, and it was bleeding profusely.

"Look at me, love," urged the reaper, taking his hat off and shaking his bangs out of his eyes. He tugged Jase's blindfold up so that the wildly dilated, swirly blue eyes could gaze into his. "Look at me. Let it go."

Jase's pupils dilated so small, the usually tiny dot was near invisible, his eyes widened, and with a cry of pain, the doll shrank back, covering his eyes with his arm and clumsily bumping into the table that was near him, knocking things over. But slowly, his senses came to him, and all he could taste—yes, taste—was the metallic flavor of blood. His mouth gaped open, the large chunk of human flesh and cloth tumbling out to the ground, blood spilling down his chin and dripping onto his shirt.

"Oh, G-God almighty…" he gasped, realizing what he had done, "Oh mon Dieu, qu'ai-je fait? Je suis...Je suis un monstre!" He began to tremble, eyes shut tight against the light.

Undertaker refrained from reaching out to touch him, guessing that he needed a moment. "You're no monster. You're just...complicated." He looked over at the men who were inching their way to the door, and he saw the older one draw a pistol from inside of his jacket, aiming it at Jase with obvious intent.

He reacted without clear thought. He intercepted the shot meant for his dollie, and he felt a sick, hot pain in his left side as the bullet went in. He ignored it. He was upon the human in a flash, kicking the weapon out of his hand with his boot, while manifesting his scythe in his hands. They were both too stunned by the sight of the reaping weapon materializing out of thin air to do more than stare with horror. He gave both humans a mad, fierce smile as a strange emotion surfaced within him.

"It's not nice to try and wreck another man's dollie," he informed the older one, and he began to swing the scythe.

Feeling numb, and vaguely hearing the commotion and shot of a gun, Jase managed to pull his blindfold back down so that he could see without being in pain, and slowly turned his head in time to see the reaper's magnificent scythe materialize. He stumbled, his body not quite listening to him in it's shocked state as he scrambled forward behind Undertaker and hugged him from behind, "No…" he breathed, "won't they find us if you use that..?" He'd been told a little about a Reaper's scythe. The scythe collects the soul of a person on the brink of death, already gone (Though if left too long, the soul could escape as a ghost), or killed by it, and the records and soul would all go to a library the reapers had…or something like that. Their location could be compromised, and they hadn't really a plan on where to go next.

With one arm wrapped tight around Undertaker's waist, the other moved along his arm holding the scythe, as if to halt it from moving.

Undertaker stumbled under the sudden interference, and he grunted with discomfort as Jase's hold on him inadvertently shifted the bullet inside of him. The doll's words registered, and he didn't have time to explain to him that he'd taken measures to prevent any tracking of his scythe. Dispatch didn't even know he still _had_ it, until he revealed it on the Campania.

"No pleading for their lives?" he asked, the strange feeling of anger fading in the face of curious amusement. "I must confess, Jase, I would have expected you to argue on the basis of mercy, rather than practicality."

"You still shouldn't kill…" Jase blushed, "'Thou shalln't kill'. I still value the commandments…But that man…he _smells_ sinful…overwhelmingly so…I…I don't understand it, but…" he bit his lip.

Undertaker looked at the two quaking humans. "Go," he told them, jerking his chin toward the door. "And if you breathe a single word of this to the Yard, I'll be sure to tell them where the body in my house came from. What do you think your employer will do to you then, hmm?"

The men had no argument for him. They left without another word, and Undertaker called out an advisory that the older fellow to get that bite treated, before it became infected. As the door swung on its hinges with their passing, Undertaker reached down to lay a hand over the arm still wrapped tightly about his waist.

"They're gone now, my dear. While I find it flattering that you threw yourself at me, your passionate embrace is causing a bit of a pinch." He gently disengaged the arm, and Jase's sleeve came away wet with his blood.

Undertaker clucked his tongue and turned around to face the doll. "This is why I wear black," he said with a pained grin, looking down at the crimson-stained sleeve. "But if we remove this shirt now, I may be able to salvage it before the stain sets."

He brushed the pad of his thumb over the doll's parted, bloody lips. "Your face could use a wash, too. Come along. We'll lock the front door and get this taken care of, before I deal with our oblivious guest there, on the floor."

"Y-you're hurt!" Jase gasped, the numb feeling in his body fading as concern took over. When had Undertaker gotten hurt? It took him a second to remember that he'd heard a gun go off. The reaper was shot, then? "…You've been shot…"

Undertaker forgave him his late perception, on account of the flesh hunger that had consumed him, moments ago. "It's nothing, pet. Takes a lot more than a little bullet to kill a reaper." He pressed a hand against the blood-dampened spot in his robes, and he could feel the injury closing already.

"Unfortunately, I can't just leave the shot nestled all cozy in my external oblique." He took a step and grimaced, but he'd fought through much, much worse injuries than this. "Come on, love. Looks like we're both taking our shirts off."

He tried to make a joke of it, to ease his companion's anxiety. "Now, you may want to throw yourself at me again," he teased, "but I shall do my best to resist."

Jase blushed again and looked away, removing his soiled and blood-stained shirt and waistcoat as he followed Undertaker, "…I did not 'throw myself at you', I was merely stopping you from killing a man…"

"Excuses, excuses." Undertaker unbuttoned the outer layer of his robes, and he absently nudged the wrapped body out of the way with his foot before going down the stairs. He looked back at his companion when Jase hesitated, and he saw him looking down at the body.

"I was thinking of making you a brother," said the reaper. "Then you can see how different you are from the other dollies."

At Jase's horrified look, Undertaker laughed. "Kidding! I was going to give you first-hand experience on working with a cadaver, to help your studies along. We might not have time for that, though. It seems I may need to dispose of that poor sod and get our travel arrangements underway. Come, Jase. That stain is going to set, if I don't use my special soak to get it out. I'll let you say last rites over the body later, if it will make you feel better."

"…I'm not a priest any longer…" Jase muttered under his breath as he followed the reaper down into the always dimly lit basement. Despite how creepy and dank the room looked, being able to be without his blindfold during the daylight was a nice break for him, and he slipped his blindfold off.

"No, you aren't." Undertaker smiled, his back turned to the doll as he loosened and removed the rest of his outer garments, draping them over his arm. Now clad only in his black pants and the thigh-high, black leather boots with their many buckles and straps, Undertaker turned to face his companion again, reaching out for Jase's shirt. He saw the way the doll had pushed up his blindfold, and the way the unique blue eyes scanned his pale chest and torso, lingering on the scars striping him in various places. The former priest handed his shirt over, but his gaze followed the winding scars on Undertaker's body with a sort of wonder...and perhaps a bit of pity.

Undertaker took the garments from him, and bundled it with his own. He glanced down at his bare chest, partially concealed by the ash-pale hair and the little braid falling over it. He traced the largest scar on his chest with a fingernail, following the diagonal path from his right pectoral down to his left side.

"Yes, I have many scars," he murmured, sobering a bit. His smile returned as he looked back at Jase again. "But I don't regret a single one."

He carried the garments over to the sink and he dropped them into the wooden bucket at the foot of it. He filled the bucket with cold water, and then he perused his shelves for the solution he used to quickly get out bloodstains before they set.

Jase's eyes still lingered on Undertaker's reveled form. Though they had spent plenty of time together, he'd never seen the man without his clothes, always dressing himself in the small bathroom. Not that Jase had ever thought much of it. He himself did all his changing in the small room as well. But now the reaper was half exposed for the first time, and he was—beautiful. His deathly pale white skin, almost as white as snow—and yet not unhealthy-looking, his strong, but not overly built muscles… Jase almost had assumed the man was scrawny with all the layers he constantly wore. Even the scars, with a hint of pink to them which contrasted the white were pleasing to the eye, and he grew tempted to reach out and run his fingers along one particularly long scar running from his left shoulder and down his back under the waist of his black slacks…

No. What was he thinking? How sinful. He forced himself to turn away and walk over to the examination table.

Undertaker finished blending the solution in the bucket with water, and he dampened a cloth and approached Jase. The doll immediately gave a start and whirled around when Undertaker came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder.

"My, my, aren't you jumpy?" Undertaker smiled at him, and he began to clean off his face. "What a frightful mess you've made of yourself. Not to worry, though." He finished wiping the young man's face off, and he bundled up the rag and tossed it into the bucket. He moved his instrument table closer to the examination table, and he hopped up onto the latter.

"I've got to turn on this overhead light, Jase," warned the reaper, "but I'll be shining it on myself, where I took my injury. Wash your hands and unwrap those instruments for me, would you? I'm going to need your assistance if I want to do this fast. Otherwise I could be digging around inside myself all afternoon."

Seeing the frown Jase gave him, and the way his eyes lingered on the uninjured looking skin where the bullet had gone in, Undertaker explained. "These scars on my body were made by death scythes, love. Ordinary weapons don't leave permanent scars on my kind, and most of them can't kill us, either. I'm going to have to make an incision and extract the bullet, and I need you to help me find it quickly."

Silently, the doll moved to do as he was told, pulling back on his blindfold so that the light could be turned on. "Were they made when you retired as a working reaper?" he asked casually, "When they tried to take your scythe?"

"Yes." Undertaker lowered his gaze, attempting to banish the memory. He found himself speaking of it more as an afterthought, however. "Even those I once thought of as friends came after me. After that, the notion became a foreign concept."

He traced another scar, his mind drifting into the past. He grimaced at the memory of the clash of metal, the screams of injured and dying reapers, and the frozen grin he'd felt on his own face as he cut them down.

Jase finished sterilizing the tools and brought them over, setting them down on the table and reaching out to place a hand of comfort on the reaper's shoulder, as if to say he was sorry for bringing up painful memories.

Undertaker gave a small start, so preoccupied by the ghosts of his past that he didn't sense the touch coming. He laid his hand over the smaller one resting on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. He wanted to believe that he could really have a companion in this doll, and not just an elaborate servant. Undertaker knew what he'd become: a real life Dr. Frankenstein. It was a bit of irony that ' _Frankenstein_ ' was one of his favorite pieces of horror literature. He'd never said as much to Jase, and he'd actually begun to keep his copy hidden, out of concern that the doll would pick it up to read one day and identify too strongly with the monster in it.

"Let's get started, shall we?" He gave the young man's hand a pat and he gently pulled it off of his shoulder. He adjusted the angle of the light so that it was shining away from Jase and onto his torso, and he gave him the nod to lift his blindfold again so that he could see clearly. He dipped his hands in the sterilizing solution on the instrument tray and he shook them off, before selecting the scalpel.

"I'll need you to hold the mirror, and angle it so that I can see what I'm doing to myself," instructed Undertaker with a nod at the double-sided, reflective lens on the table. "I might need you to have a look too, if your eyes can bear the reflection of the light against my skin. I could almost outdo a corpse with my pallor, I know." He grinned at his own self-depreciating joke, being a thorough supporter of laughing at oneself, whenever possible.

"Are all grim reapers this pale?" Jase asked, angling the mirror until he was told it was good and to hold it still. He was curious, as Undertaker was the only death god he had ever seen—that he knew of.

Undertaker shook his head, and he shook his hair back to get it out of the way. "I need you to tie my hair back for me, lovely. I usually do it myself before opening up a client, but it slipped my mind." He nodded at the black ribbon lying on the tray, and when Jase put down the mirror to comply, he answered his question.

"It really depends on where they're from and how they form when they're 'born'. Some of my kind tan quite nicely during the summer, but in addition to being fair skinned by nature, I spend a lot of time in the dark. I think my skin's become impervious to sunlight, by now."

He shut his eyes as Jase moved around behind him to gather his hair into a ponytail and tie it back. The feel of his fingers sliding through his hair to hastily comb it into place felt nice. "I don't think my body knows how to tan," he sighed, "but I think I'd look a bit funny with one, anyhow."

"I think it'd be too much of a contrast with your hair…" Jase muttered, tying the ribbon in a bow, "I think more people would confuse you for an elderly man rather than a young man without pigment…" he moved back around and resituated the mirror once more.

Tickled that the subject had somehow gone from digging a bullet out to discussing what he'd look like with a tan, Undertaker smiled at him. "We wouldn't want people thinking I'm an old codger, would we? Oh, wait...they already do. Ah, well." He chuckled. "I appreciate the thought, though."

He rubbed some iodine tincture over the general area where the bullet went in, and then he got the scalpel ready again. He felt around gingerly where the bullet had gone in, and he grimaced as he felt it shifting around in his side, wedged in the lean muscles. "At least it didn't pierce an organ. Now then, let's see. Angle the mirror up a bit, would you?"

When Jase complied, Undertaker spread his fingers over the area and he made a small incision. "Dab that away for me," he instructed when blood welled, and when Jase hastily did so with a square of gauze, the reaper grabbed the retractor and inserted the end of it into the cut, clenching his teeth in pain. He adjusted the instrument to hold the incision open for him, and he held it in place and nodded at the table.

"I need the bullet extraction forceps, next to the tweezers."

When he received the item in question, he asked for Jase to make use of the squirt bottle to rinse more blood away so that he could see. He found the glint of the metal, and he inserted the forceps to probe for it. He hissed through clenched teeth, his lips pulling taut in a humorless grin of pain as he struggled to get the bullet. It was a shame he couldn't just leave it for his body to eventually absorb or reject, but that could take weeks, and he didn't want anything slowing him down if a fight came to him.

The doll watched in silence, squinting slightly at the light reflecting off Undertaker's skin. It was messy, but he grew interested, finding value in learning how to remove an item such as a bullet. Knowing such could save a life—not Undertaker's as he was hardly affected by it, but for many others, perhaps even himself. And saving people was much more rewarding than killing or hurting... of course, that thought only brought his mind back around to how he'd mindlessly had attacked that man earlier…and it disgusted him how he could still taste the blood and flesh on his tongue.

Undertaker noticed the expression growing on his dollie's face, and he'd seen it before in other medical students when he was still in training. "If you think you might need to chuck, get one of the pails by the sink and keep it handy. Try not to drop my mirror if you need to take a dive for it."

Jase shook his head, "I just…need to wash my mouth out after this…after what I did…"

Undertaker paused and glanced at him, his pale brow beaded with sweat. Why in the world he felt like trying to comfort the doll while he was in the middle of digging a bullet out of his flesh was beyond him, but he didn't like that ridiculous self-blame in his voice.

"You didn't do anything, Jase. That was the hunger acting, not you. The process of altering the records to create the bizarre dolls causes them to instinctively seek out the warmth of the living. They do this because they have no souls of their own, and while yours is intact, the editing I had to do to your records in order to preserve you evidently left you with that hunger, too."

He frowned in thought. "But the holy fire inside of you...that has an influence, too. I'll have to do more research to fully understand it."

He resumed his efforts to retract the bullet, grunting at the sharp, stinging pain as he separated tissue and muscle to reach it. He now wished he'd had the foresight to numb the area, first. "It was an impulse, Jase. I'm afraid it's now part of your nature..." he hissed again, and he bit his lip until it bled, "...but it can be controlled, with the proper measures. I think we...should consider practice exposure to human beings. Your...isolation isn't...going to help you learn to control it... _there_! Finally!"

Undertaker clamped down on the bullet, and he gagged in pain as he pulled it out of its nest of flesh—which was already trying to heal around it and close up. His hand shook a bit as he deposited the bullet in the metal dish on his instrument tray, and fresh blood welled up.

"Well, that was unpleasant," he muttered, feeling a little sick from the pain. "Ironic, I could be the one to end up with my head in a pail. It's been some time since I've had to do a surgical procedure on myself."

Jase was silent, moving to clean things up and placing the pail on the table for him in case he needed it.

Guessing that the doll's silence could be attributed to his angst over trying to devour the man from earlier, Undertaker finished the rest up himself, temporarily binding his rapidly healing injury to prevent any further blood dripping onto his pants. He put everything away and he prepared the instruments he'd used to be cleaned and sterilized again.

"Come," he offered, pouring a cup of water from the sink. "Rinse your mouth out."

He watched as the young man took the cup to eagerly do as suggested, and he frowned with the realization of something. "Jase, is your hurry to rinse your mouth out due strictly to moral principles, or could you actually taste that human?"

"…I can taste it…" The doll said after a long paused, never making eye contact, "The blood and flesh…I can taste it." Swallowing, he looked up at Undertaker with a pained expression, "…And I _liked_ it…" he added in a horrified whisper.

Undertaker nodded in understanding, and he smiled gently at him. "That's none of your doing, pet. It's part of your condition, and we know for certain that you don't require it for survival."

Seeing the threat of tears in his eyes, Undertaker did something that surprised himself. He apologized. "I'm sorry," he said, "for my part in this."

Jase was just an experiment a week ago, a thing of curiosity to study and learn from. Now it troubled the reaper to see him upset, rather like when he'd kept a pet bat and it sickened, but he could do anything for it. The little fellow was simply old, and Undertaker shed a quiet tear for him when he passed. It was the only basis for comparison he had for this unwelcome, protective swell of feelings for the doll.

He reached out to stroke Jase's hair, for once not resorting to puns or riddles to cheer him up.

"It…it's not like you tried to make me a monster like this…" Jase said, clearly trying to fight the tears as they started to gather in his swirled blue eyes, and he reached up to pull down his blindfold to hide it, but Undertaker stopped him from doing so, catching his hand and holding it.

"Didn't I? Within you, I saw the perfect opportunity to create a bizarre doll that could think on its own, that could retain a human personality. How much deadlier would such a creature be, if it were at full strength and capable of thought and reason?" Undertaker smiled ruefully. "A reaper's moral compass is quite unpredictable, compared to a human's. We don't think like them, and we usually don't allow ourselves to _feel_ like them, either. If we do, the cinematic records could take us down with them, when we reap."

He frowned, confused by his own warring feelings. "I...would like to ease your suffering, but I don't know how, just yet. I'm terribly awkward at giving comfort, as you well know. I must have been good at it once, because the little nippers seemed to like me. Now I'm just..." He struggled for words, searching for the part of his fractured memories that might tell him how to relate to another person, tell him what to do. He watched a glistening tear fall from his dollie's eye and he bent over to impulsively kiss it away.

"Here now," he murmured against the smooth, heated skin, "you're no monster to me, love." He found himself embracing him with one arm, and he stopped stroking his hair to cup his chin and tilt his head back. Driven by curiosity, a strange desire to comfort and a suddenly pressing need to feel a living being's lips against his again; He pressed his thin lips firmly to Jase's own.

"Whaa-!" The brunet stiffened, his tearful blue eyes widening and a dark scarlet spread over his heated cheeks at the strangely wonderful and new feeling of another's lips upon his own. Torn between what was morally 'right' and what seemed to feel right… the small young man trembled with the inner battle.

He was spiraling into the clutches of the devil. Such a sin so great as to allow another man to lay lips upon his as if one were a woman. And yet, he found himself lingering against those pale lips that so often were twisted into a grin. His hands moved up and pressed against Undertaker's bared chest, half with the intent on pushing him away, and half with the longing to slip them up further and wrapping his arms around his shoulders.

Undertaker pulled away, only to kiss him again with more pressure. His heart began to make a ruckus in his chest as he felt Jase's hands pressing against it, and he wondered if the doll would fight him. Now that he'd tasted the velvety sweetness of his lips, he had every intention of bedding him eventually—but he was aware that Jase was still an innocent, and he had no intention of forcing himself on him.

Seduction was the key, and he needed to have a care with it, or it could backfire terribly. He turned his head to kiss him at a different angle, and he subtly pressed a thigh between his legs, gently backing him up against the table. He caressed his face and jaw, fingertips gliding over the tear-dampened skin in a coaxing manner. He stroked Jase's bareback with his other hand, letting his nails trace lightly over his spine to draw a shiver of pleasure from him.

"You are beautiful," whispered Undertaker, pausing the kiss. He descended upon the pliant, soft lips again, and this time he played a bit. He took Jase's lower lip between his and he gently sucked it, stroking his tongue over the plush flesh teasingly before applying pressure with his lips again.

Ambrosia. That was what this was, to him. He'd had his meaningless trysts here and there throughout the long, lonely centuries, but he could actually _feel_ the longing in Jase's hesitant kiss. Undertaker was quickly coming to adore him...there was simply no way around that, and he became more confident that the feeling could be mutual, even if his dollie was hesitant to act on it. He wondered again if it was a good idea to allow himself to become attached to this fascinating, darling man, but right now, his _other_ head seemed to be in charge of his actions.

He deepened the kiss, fighting a groan as his passion grew. He gently traced the crease between Jase's lips with the tip of his tongue, silently asking for access.

Jase's gut seemed to twist with excitement as he found himself backed up and pressed against the edge of the table. And each time Undertaker withdrew from the kiss, the only sounds he could manage was small gasps. Whether they were of shock, or disappointment, he didn't know. Which only startled him more. Slowly, his lips began to part, his eyes fluttering closed, and the smallest of moans escaped his lips and into Undertaker's mouth as their tongues slid over each other.

 _No!_ No, this was _wrong!_ This was a _man!_

Jase jerked back, pushing Undertaker away from him with a gasp before he turned away, shakingly covering his agape lips with his fingertips. What had he done? Letting it last that long? No, letting it happen! He dodged around Undertaker and fled up the steps into the main room, nearly tripping over the forgotten body lying upon the floor as he reached the bathroom—the only room with a lock—and shut himself in.

Undertaker stood there with the foolish look of a properly gob smacked man on his pale face, blinking at the stairs. "My, he does move fast when he's got the munchies or a fright," he sighed. He'd barely had the chance to register the sudden shove and the absence of his lips, before he was up the stairs and gone from sight. Undertaker heard the bathroom door slam, and he winced.

"Well done, old chap," he muttered to himself, golf-clapping. "Good show. Perhaps next, you can strip down to your skivvies and give him a lap dance."

Trying not to take it personally, the retired death god scratched his head in thought. "How _does_ courtship work with a virginal man of the cloth, anyway? I suppose since so few of them are allowed to act on lust...let alone _think_ about it, I'm going to have to follow the example of molasses and slow it down even more."

He _had_ picked a vulnerable moment to kiss him, after all. Well, he hadn't actually picked it...Undertaker junior had. The silver reaper looked down at the rather obvious bulge of arousal in his pants and he pointed at it accusingly.

"This is all _your_ fault, and I'm holding you personally responsible."

* * *

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

That night, Jase had stayed locked in the bathroom with his thoughts well past dark. Though he did take the time to take a long soak in a cold bath that was anything but relaxing, until he felt ready to venture back out. He toweled himself off and dressed in the night clothes he conveniently had forgotten that morning in the bathroom, and quietly slipped out the door. His bare feet padding almost silently across the wooden floor; only a few creaks giving him away. But he ignored it and slipped into the coffin that was his bed, grabbing the sheet from the foot end and pulling it up over himself simply to stay hidden.

Undertaker finished his gruesome work in the basement, having decided that lessons with a cadaver would have to wait for another time. He cut up the body, dumped it into the tub he kept in the basement and soaked it in the acid solution until the flesh was almost completely melted. He disposed of the solution carefully and he put the bones into a sack to be cremated in the morning.

Usually he enjoyed his work, but the conversation with this corpse had lacked the usual charm, and in the end he realized he was really just talking to himself. He'd begun to get used to having someone around that would actually answer him when he spoke, or at least nod and smile politely. It made him both sad and frustrated, and while he finished up, he started to blame Jase for it. If the gentle little Frenchman hadn't come into his life, he would still be quite happy to natter on with the dead and appreciate their muteness as an audience.

Now he kept wondering why nobody spoke back, and he kept reminding himself that it was because Jase wasn't there. The entire time Undertaker worked on his task, he debated going upstairs to speak with Jase and try to iron out the wrinkles, but he knew him well enough to know by now when he just needed time to think for himself and reflect.

After finishing a cheerless cleanup job, Undertaker went upstairs, used the bathroom and had a bath. He knew that Jase was in his coffin by now, but he didn't try to say anything to him. He put on his black sleep robe, and he paused as he passed Jase's coffin on his way to his own. He couldn't see anything of him but a bundle of sheets, and he guessed by the rhythm of his breathing that he was still awake.

Undertaker considered saying something to him, but he hadn't the foggiest idea of what words he could possibly offer. He was probably the last person the doll wanted to talk to, right now. With a soft sigh of frustration, Undertaker sought out his own coffin, leaning up against the wall nearby. He stepped into it, shut the lid and closed his eyes.

He'd have to put aside repairing things with Jase, for now. He was his master, and while he wouldn't hold that over him to get him into bed, he _would_ use it to gain his cooperation with assisting him, if need be.

He sighed again. He didn't want to be insensitive. "Bloody dollie," he muttered in the narrow space of his coffin, "turning me into a softie, you are."

* * *

 

The next morning, Jase found himself to be the first one awake. And, feeling bad for how he'd reacted the day before, he quietly got up and shuffled to the kitchen, not bothering to dress or brush his hair before he got out a pan and started frying up a few eggs for Undertaker's breakfast. He gave a deep sigh as the bright morning light fell through the window and across his blindfolded face.

Sin. Why was he so worried about committing sins? He was not a man of the church any longer…and even when he was, it seemed god had forsaken not only him, but the human race if his angels could kill them without hesitation. And though Undertaker's moral compass was…questionable at best… The man wasn't human, and he had been around for—who knows how long. He undoubtedly knew things that Jase did not when it came to the world—mortal and supernatural. Maybe sins didn't apply to reapers, or he simply didn't care…The man likely didn't give it two thoughts when he'd placed those…wonderful, soft kisses upon his lips…

Undertaker awoke to the aroma of frying eggs. He could smell them even through his coffin, and he opened it with a creak to step out. He yawned, stretched a bit and sniffed the air, scratching his head. Was his dollie cooking breakfast? Perhaps Jase's episode the night before triggered his sense of taste, so that he could enjoy food again. The thought pleased Undertaker. He would like it if his diminutive companion could experience some of the simple joys of human senses again. He feared his inability to do so before was brought about by Undertaker's work on him, but perhaps that was changing.

The reaper glided silently into the kitchen, and he found the young man standing over the pot-bellied stove with a faraway expression on his sculpted face. Jase didn't seem to be paying attention to the food he was cooking, and Undertaker came up behind him to offer a warning.

"You're going to burn it, love."

The doll jumped and looked up at Undertaker, "I hate it when you move so quietly behind me." he said, using the spatula to check the eggs, "And they aren't burned." He bit his lip, moving to grab a plate as the eggs were almost done, "…Did you sleep well?"

"A bit roughly," admitted Undertaker. He grinned playfully at him. "I could start wearing a bell around the home, if you'd like. The eggs look nice. Feeling peckish, are we?"

"The eggs are for you…" The doll flushed as he slid the eggs onto the plate and turned to offer it to the man, "I'm sorry…for locking myself in the bathroom like that…it was childish of me."

"Far be it from me to judge who's childish," answered the reaper, touched by the gesture. He didn't particularly blame Jase for his reactions, but whatever mild irritation he inwardly harbored went away quickly. "And you've got nothing to apologize for. I scared you, and that was my fault."

Undertaker leaned in and bent over to murmur into his ear, his voice a low, seductive purr. He didn't touch him as he spoke; he just gave him a new promise, caressing him with his voice instead of his hands. "I think I'll allow you to come to me, pet. Whenever you're ready, I'll be waiting. You need only give me a sign, and I'll make you mine in every sense of the word. Thank you for breakfast."

"A man…should not lay with another man as he would a woman. It has been such since the beginning." Jase said, not completely shooting the reaper down. After all…he had felt something there…something more than how good the kiss had felt. But his priestly mind screamed at him that it was wrong…and not to mention that there were laws against such a sin, it was not only his faltering faith that told him so, it was the government. "And had someone seen us last evening…" he shivered and looked away, "…it was wrong."

Having learned the lesson of patience over the countless years of his life, Undertaker chose not to argue with him. He shrugged lightly, stepping away to accept the plate of breakfast. "You know your heart better than I, little priest. As I said: I won't force my attentions on you...but should you change your mind, I won't turn you away, either. Shinigami have no such rules against loving someone of the same gender, and I have no care for what humans think of my preferences."

It was a risky game to play with someone so deeply shamed by religious ideals, but Undertaker believed it would be worth it, should his suspicions prove correct. There were other ways to entice the senses, without being physically aggressive. Granted, he hadn't tried to seduce anyone for a long time, and he had no doubt he wasn't as charming as he used to be...not with the scars and the nails and the shaggy, overlong bangs.

He took his plate and silverware into the main room and he set it on top of the third coffin; the one they used as a coffee and dining table. He knelt before it and began to eat, listening thoughtfully to the sounds of Jase cleaning up after himself.

If he was wrong, he'd suffer some rather painful disappointment. If he was right, however, and if he could stifle his desire and give Jase just the right encouragement, he should eventually come around. The dear chap just needed time to work out his conflicting feelings and morals.

Jase silently cleaned the dishes in the water he'd heated on the stove, his mind, once again, preoccupied as his thoughts went wild once more about the reaper in the other room. His kissing another man was _wrong_. Loving him in the way he would a woman was _wrong_. Wanting to feel his soft pale hands caress over his skin, thin lips upon his… _wrong, wrong, wrong_! Grim Reapers may be fine with it. They were likely outside of sin's grasp! Creatures much like Angels and devils both—a neutral set of beings—the balance between pure sin and grace. But him? He was a being trapped between heaven and hell, fighting for the right to be graced in the afterlife. It mattered for humans… Yet…that was the thing, wasn't it? Jase _wasn't_ human. Where were Bizarre Dolls in the balance of the world? Was there even a place for him? He wasn't a creation of God, anymore…he was unnatural—born of death (In more ways than one.) And he was the only one of his kind to actually know of the world. He wasn't the same—a moving corpse. He was beyond that—a mix of Doll and human. A human mind which set him apart from the rest. And he had to remind himself that that was it. His memories and state of mind was the only thing human about him.

Would…sin be really all that bad..?

Undertaker finished his meal and he found Jase still standing over the sink in the kitchen. He'd already finished washing up, but he was clearly deep in thought. That wasn't a bad thing, as far as the reaper was concerned. He deliberately made noise as he approached this time, stepping down with his full weight to make noise with the sole of his boot and draw a creak from the wooden floor. He smiled at him when Jase turned to regard him.

"That was lovely. Hit the spot." He went to the basin and he began to clean the chipped plate off, glancing sidelong at the suddenly blushing young man. He smirked inwardly, guessing what sort of thoughts he'd interrupted this time. "I've got to leave shortly to have the remains of our guest downstairs cremated. How would you like to come with? It would do you some good to get out and feel the sun on your face. It looks to be a nice day."

Jase hesitated, "…What if I attack someone again, though?" he asked in a hushed tone, "The man yesterday wasn't innocent, I know…but today could be different! A woman or child…"

"I made a promise to you," reminded Undertaker, "and shame on me for believing you were free of the flesh cravings your cousins are prone to, but now that I know differently, I won't let my guard down."

Undertaker hesitated, wondering how much he should tell Jase of the additional conditioning he placed him under as a safety precaution. "Do you recall what happened after I pulled you off of that man, yesterday? Do you remember me commanding you to stop, and how you reacted?"

Jase shook his head, "No…I barely remember attacking him…there is only…me standing in your arms with the taste of blood on my lips…and seeing him hurt and bleeding…" he tilted his head up to look at Undertaker; that glimmer of green and gold that wasn't quite hidden behind silken silver bangs.

Undertaker sighed. "I see. Well, I should tell you now that after I altered you, I did a bit of additional editing to your cinematic records. I thought it would be a wise precaution, considering I didn't know enough about you yet to determine how dangerous you could be, or how difficult to control. I implanted a similar suggestion into the dolls before you as well, one that prevents them from turning on me—though my dollies seem to have no desire for reaper flesh."

He tilted his head and he watched Jase through his bangs. Some of the locks slipped aside to afford him a clearer view of the young man, and he decided to comb them back from his eyes entirely. "I had to be a bit more extensive with you. You're much stronger than the other dollies, and you aren't witless—that makes you potentially more dangerous. Long story short, I've affixed a leash to your soul, my dear. If I order you not to harm someone, you can't do it—though your body might scream for it. I would rather see if you can learn to control those urges yourself, but if it would make you feel more secure, I can command you not to attack or harm anyone, before we go."

A strange mix of relief and betrayal swept over the doll, and he didn't even attempt to keep it off his face, "Could you…use this 'leash' to…make me do other things..?"

"Absolutely _not_ ," said Undertaker with startling vehemence. "Heavens, what do you take me for, anyway? If I had any intention of forcing myself on you, I'd have broken down the bathroom door and had my way with you last night." He tried not to take that one personally because he could understand why Jase would fear such a thing. Undertaker had been accused of necrophilia, cannibalism, betrayal and even cowardice before, but he'd never been called a rapist.

He forced his indignation aside, again reminding himself that the little gent had valid reasons for his concern. He reached up to draw the drapes, and he gently reached out to tug Jase's blindfold up. He shook his bangs back again so that he could look him in the eye, "When I said I want you to come to me of your own free will, I meant that. I prefer my partners willing, Jase Dubois, and fully aware of what they are doing. It never even crossed my mind to turn you into a mindless little sex dollie."

"I—I didn't mean…I…" Jase started stuttering, "I meant could you make me attack someone as well as use it to hold me back from attacking! I…I didn't even think about— _that_."

For the second time since meeting this man, Undertaker was afflicted with a horrible case of mortification. His albino pale cheeks flooded with pink, and he quickly bowed his head to let his hair fall back down over his eyes.

_'How's that foot tasting, old chap? Good? It's becoming a staple food of yours.'_

Well, now they both knew where _his_ mind was, this morning; right in the gutter. Undertaker cleared his throat, and a sudden case of the giggles struck him. He tried to quell it, but the snickers bubbled on his lips as he spoke, making him chirp with laughter.

"Now we're even," he informed the young man, "for when you thought I called you short, yesterday. _Ah, me...ah-hah...ah-ha-ha-ha_!"

He had a good laugh at himself, even as his blush of embarrassment seemed to fascinate his companion. When he felt like he could speak again, he shook his head and offered another reassurance to Jase. "No, I didn't design you to be an attack dog, either. I wanted you to be different from the others. All of your compulsions are there as a failsafe, and nothing more."

Jase nodded, and opened his mouth to say that he didn't mind a leash that would only stop him from hurting people—after all, it had been his request that he not be aloud to do so. However, what slipped past his lips turned out to be quite different, "Tu es belle quand tu rougis. Ah!" The Frenchman gasped, realizing quickly what he'd said, and hurried to correct himself, only to find his tongue locked. Biting down on his lip he turned away, pulling down his blindfold and wishing he could disappear.

It took Undertaker a moment to translate what Jase had said in French, and he grinned hugely all over again. Ordinarily he would have vehemently denied that he was blushing, but to hear Jase tell him he looked beautiful that way made it worth the humiliation. The Frenchman's reaction to his own words was completely endearing, as well.

"Beautiful, am I?" he teased. He wanted to embrace him, but he refrained from doing so. The misunderstandings were running rampant this morning, and he didn't want to push his luck. "It seems we're both dining on our feet, today. Perhaps we should make preparations to go, before we chew our legs off, too."

He sobered a bit. "Would you like me to apply the 'leash' now, love?"

"I—I didn't say that!" he denied, rushing to gather clothes to change into and pausing on his way to the bathroom, "If it'll stop me from attacking…use the 'leash'" he added before disappearing to dress himself and brush his hair back into a ponytail.

Undertaker laughed helplessly at the doll's flustered, vehement denial. "At least _I_ can own up to my verbal tongue slips, my blushing, stubborn dollie."

When no response was forthcoming from the other side of the door, Undertaker wiped the tears of mirth from his eyes and sighed. Jase was making it difficult for him to resist making advances on him, but at his age, he should have enough self-control to do so. He gathered a change of clothes for himself, and he paused as he found something in his trunk that he'd forgotten all about. Undertaker lifted the sack out and he peeked into it.

Jase's woodcarving kit. Undertaker had found it in the trunk of his meager belongings at the church, when he returned there over a week before to gather some of the doll's personal affects. He'd held off on giving it to him, because he didn't know at the time if he would regain enough coordination to make use of it. Undertaker smiled. It seemed he had something new to cheer his dollie up with, after all. He replaced the kit back into his trunk for the time-being, making a mental note to offer it to Jase when they returned.

He waited for Jase to finish, before going into the bathroom to change and brush his hair. He smirked at the smaller man in passing, making him blush again. Chuckling with amusement, he shut the door and got ready.

When he came back out again, he beaconed his companion over to him, and he drew the ratty drapes over the window to block out the sunlight. "All right, lift up your blindfold," he instructed.

When Jase did so, Undertaker cupped his face in his hands and he shook his bangs out of his eyes again, to stare deeply into the doll's, working his will over him. "By the command of your master, you won't harm a living thing unless given leave to do so. Do you understand, pet?"

Jase's pupils reacted, growing wider as his lids hooded them and his gaze seemed to lose all focus. Lips parting, he let out a small, emotionless 'Yes, Master'.

The reaper cringed at the toneless, dead sound of his voice. He'd never been one to concern himself overly with the dignity of humans, dead or alive. He prettied up the dead for funerals, studied them for scientific purposes or turned them into animated puppets with the potential to be used as weapons, but their dignity wasn't a concern for him. He could be kind to humans when it suited his purposes, and he had nothing against the little ones, but again, he never put much thought into respecting them.

Hearing his dollie speak like that, as if he were only slightly better than his undead counterparts, was a special kind of torment for Undertaker. He didn't even like the way he'd said 'master'. It sounded revolting to him...perverse. It didn't matter to Undertaker that it was the nature of their relationship at its core; he hated hearing that word spoken so flatly, so dispassionately, by Jase. He would much rather hear that word screamed from the doll's lips in a fit of passion, or not at all.

He frowned at Jase, and he took advantage of the young man's hypnotized state to place a soft kiss on his lips. "I definitely prefer you with a mind of your own," he whispered; sighing against the soft, slack mouth.

He pulled away, and he spoke a simple command to end the hypnotic state. "Wake up now, Jase."

The doll blinked, the life flooding back into his swirled eyes. And the emotion returning to his features. Looking up at Undertaker, he waited for the fuzzy feeling in his mind to pass before speaking, "Am I safe around people now..?"

"For a time, yes," answered the reaper with a nod. "The compulsion will fade within a couple of hours. I kept it simple, so that should anything happen to prevent me from releasing you from the command, you'll be able to defend yourself. I wouldn't want to leave you helpless, after all."

Undertaker couldn't resist smoothing aside an errant lock of brown hair that had fallen over the young man's right eye, and he tugged his blindfold back down for him. "I warn you though, the compulsion won't stop the hunger. There's nothing I can do for that, unfortunately. Perhaps with time, you'll learn to control those urges yourself, and my command won't be necessary any longer."

"I hope so…" Jase nodded, lingering a moment in the reaper's arms before pulling back and tucking a lock of longer fringe behind his ear, "What are we going to be doing today?"

"First, we'll be going to an associate of mine to have those remains cremated," answered the reaper. "After that, I thought we'd pick up a few things from the market, for the road. I've decided that we should begin making our way to Germany first, seeing as I've got some contacts there. We'll stay for a while, and then if you'd like, we could pay a visit to your home country. Maybe we could even live there for a while, provided I succeed in throwing Shinigami Dispatch far enough off the scent to lose them."

"It would help your French to live there…much like living here helped my English." Jase said with a small smile. "I think I'd like to return home if possible…"

Finding that one little smile ridiculously rewarding, Undertaker remembered the surprise he had for Jase. "Then it's settled. It could take a while, but we'll get there eventually. I've got one other small gift for you."

He held up a finger to indicate that he should wait there a moment, and he went over to his trunk, next to the smaller trunk he'd purchased for Jase once he knew he was going to survive his transition. He located the sack of woodcarving tools and he lifted it out to bring it to him.

"I was going to wait," explained Undertaker, suddenly uncomfortable. "I thought we should take care of the day's business first, but seeing you smile like that made me want to give this to you a bit early."

He held out the sack for him. "I took it when I gathered your other things from the chapel grounds. I...thought you might find some use for it again, once your coordination improved."

Undertaker looked away, absently combing his bangs back down over his eyes as he struggled to understand why he had such a compulsive need to please the doll. He'd courted people he found attractive before, but it was all just a game to him...something he did to entertain himself or to seduce. This wasn't just seduction, though. It gave him genuine pleasure just to see Jase's features light up, and he longed to make it happen more often.

Jase's face did light up brighter when he spotted the tools. It had been so long since he'd used them, he had forgotten he had them still tucked away in the bottom of his footlocker. He hadn't touched them since before he joined the priesthood. He had saved up for them over two years when he'd still lived with his father, carving having been a means of escape. He could get lost in his own world while carving small wooden objects, but the priesthood had left him with little time to do so.

He reached out and gingerly took them in his hands, opening their leather case and running his fingers over the tools, "I thought I'd lost these…my personal effects would have been donated once they discovered my disappearance and determined I wouldn't be back…" He raised his gaze back up, "Thank you."

Undertaker grinned brightly, enjoying the giddy satisfaction of the moment. "You're quite welcome, love. Seems we'll need to collect some proper carving wood for you, while we're out. I'm curious to see what lovely creations you come up with."

He checked his pocket watch and he blew a low whistle. "We're running a bit late. I'd best collect our cargo and hail a carriage." With that said, he hurried to the basement stairs, resisting the temptation to do a little jig of joy.

* * *

 To be continued...


	6. Chapter 6

After the two made it to the area in London that they—or rather, Undertaker needed, Jase followed closely behind or next to the reaper. Fearing that even with his 'leash' he'd need his reaper friend to hold him back at any moment. And indeed, a few times, he seemed to black out when particular people passed by too closely to him, and he'd come to again, still in that same spot, and his mouth watering in want. He was relieved he'd come to his senses again with that, rather than the taste of blood on his lips. Though it did cause him to get quite thirsty, and they hadn't even gotten to the place to get the bones cremated.

After coming to again after a tall man with black hair brushed past him, Jase jogged to catch up to Undertaker, reaching out to touch his elbow, "I'm going to need something to drink soon…"

Undertaker turned and stopped, cursing inwardly. He hadn't even _considered_ Jase's thirst issues. He shifted the bag hefted over his shoulder with its tightly wrapped contents, and he looked around. There was no well nearby to draw from, nor were there any places of business that might offer anything to drink—except for the little pub on the corner of the block up ahead.

"Right," muttered the reaper. He put one arm around the doll's waist to guide him, sensing his quiet distress. "Come along then, my dear. We'll find a nice spot in the corner and order a pint for me and a mug of water for you."

"I'm sorry…I didn't think to see if there was anything to bring water along with me…I'm still not used to it." The Doll apologized as he was guided to the pub.

"Think nothing of it," assured the reaper. "A quick stop for a drink won't put a crimp in our schedule. We'll stop in again when we've finished, and we'll take a carriage direct to the market place after that."

He waited for a young couple to pass through the doors first, before guiding Jase inside. Some people gave the doll a cursory look of interest upon seeing him blindfolded, but they assumed he was visually impaired and went back to their drinks or conversation. Undertaker got more stares than the young man, and the reaper knew they'd have to depart London for certain, after this. He was usually careful not to do much shopping out in the open, and he avoided frequenting heavily populated places, where people liked to gossip. Word was bound to get back to the Dispatch department that there was a tall gentleman matching Undertaker's description seen in local businesses.

Undertaker found a shadowed table in the corner of the den, away from the most active areas. Fortunately, it wasn't a busy hour of the day for pubs, so they could probably have their drinks and be gone without Jase having close contact with anyone. Undertaker guided his companion to the table and he pulled a chair out for him.

"Have a seat and wait here, love," he advised in a low murmur. "I'll belly up to the bar and order us a drink." He set his bag down and scooted it under the table. "Keep an eye out on that too. The last thing we need is for someone to nab it."

Undertaker grinned at the thought of a thief snatching the sack and finding it full of wrapped up bones. The expression on their face would surely be amusing, but it might draw more attention to him than the reaper cared to get.

He left his doll and went to the bar to order, removing his top hat cordially and giving a polite nod and a smile to the bartender. "Morning, gent. I'd like a pint of ale for me, and a tall glass of water for my companion over there. There's a good tip in it for you if you make sure it's served in a clean glass."

The bartender—a rather unkempt looking man with a messy beard and a bulbous nose—looked around at the shabby interior, then up at Undertaker with an ironic twist of his lips. "Wha' kind o' place you think this is? I ain't runnin' some snoo-ey establishment in the—"

Undertaker reached out, grabbed the man's wrist and broadened his grin, letting the chill of the grave flow from him into the human, until his eyes widened and he gasped in pain. "I gave you a simple request," he said, his voice changing from the droll tone of an old codger to the deep, smooth voice of the reaper. "It's not that hard to wipe down a glass before filling it, is it?"

"N-no sir," replied the bartender, catching a glimpse of the neon flash of the reaper's inhuman gaze. "Right away, s-sir."

Jase sat silently in his seat, his foot on the bag under the table. He thought it was safe to assume that people thought he was likely blind, and if he was touching the bag, thieves would be less likely to try to steal it. However, if they did try, he of course could see them and take them by surprise. Normally, he thought the best of people, gave them the benefit of the doubt. But this whole pub felt shady. He could feel that many of the patrons were untrustworthy for one reason or another.

Undertaker's demeanor changed abruptly from menacing to mild, once the drinks were set before him and he was satisfied with the quality. He counted out some coin and true to his word; he tipped the bartender handsomely. "Ta."

He picked up the drinks, and he covertly chilled Jase's glass with his reaper abilities, until it was rimmed with frost and had a thin layer of ice on the top of the liquid inside. He found his dollie sitting where he'd left him, and he took a seat across from him after setting his water down for him.

"There you are, nice and cool." Undertaker held up his pint with a smile. "Cheers."

Taking the glass, Jase thanked him and brought it to his lips, greedily quenching his thirst. He downed half of it before he lowered the glass once more, feeling much better than he had. The doll looked across the table at Undertaker as the man sipped his own drink, eyes hidden behind his hair, making it hard to tell where he was looking. Though, in a way, Jase was much the same with his blindfold. He'd kept it on, even though the pub was dim enough not to hurt his eyes.

"Is Undertaker your real name?" he asked curiously, "It seems a strange name to be given…"

The reaper smirked. "Nobody gave it to me, darling doll...I took it for myself. When the life of a Grim Reaper had nothing left to offer me, I created a new identity for myself. I haven't looked back."

He grimaced in spite of himself. That part was a lie. Sometimes he _did_ look back, much as he wished he could banish some of the painful memories. He had his fun times with Dispatch, certainly, but when he began to question whether there was something more to life than reaping, things began to go wrong. Undertaker sipped his ale again, and he spread the fingers of his free hand to look down at the long, black nails crowning them.

"They didn't give me a name when they made me," he whispered, "not the way you humans get named, anyhow. I was simply 'Death'. When the divine began to create more of my kind, the Shinigami association was born and names were assigned to make a distinction between us all, but old Undertaker was just...Death."

"Are your kind not born in the way humans are? Having parents? Family?" Jase blinked in surprise. If reapers were 'created' rather than 'born', perhaps his own existence was more natural than he thought…

"I was amongst the first," answered the reaper, "and that's why my nails have blackened with age." He twiddled his fingers meaningfully and he downed the rest of his ale.

"Most of the youngest generation of reapers were ascended from human souls deemed worthy by the powers that be. Reapers can't reproduce with each other like humans. Not the most fruitful lot, and only the best are selected to become officers of the Dispatch division."

He looked at his empty mug and continued to explain. "When a human is reaped, the agent on the scene jots down a special note if he believes the soul meets the criteria for ascension. If that soul is judged as fit to be reborn as a reaper, the records are filed away in a specific, classified section of the Great Library, to be reborn later as a new reaper, if there is a great enough need to replace agents who've either fallen on the job or retired, like myself."

Undertaker grinned sharply, his melancholy expression fading into one of wild, ironic humor. "If they ever found out I shared these secrets with you, they'd do a lot more than try to take my scythe or incarcerate me."

He waved at the bartender and tapped his mug with a long nail meaningfully, and he gestured at Jase's nearly empty glass of water, too. Already intimidated, the bartender quickly poured fresh drinks for them and brought them over.

"Merci, monsieur." Jase said as a fresh glass of water was placed upon the table before him. The bar tender gave him a questioning look, as if shocked that a blindfolded—and potentially blind—little Frenchman would know that he received a fresh glass of water before it was even set upon the table when Undertaker hadn't actually said anything to indicate it in the noisy pub. But, as Jase had spoken in French, he assumed Jase did not speak English and said nothing as he hurried away again.

The doll turned his attentions back to Undertaker again, "Then had you ever taken a wife and tried for a child? Was it successful?"

Undertaker shook his head and took a drink of his fresh ale. "I had no interest in a wife, or children. Much as I like the little nippers, I don't think I would make a good father. My past relationships have been brief, either due to a lack of connection, or the shortness of mortal life."

"Do you miss any of them?" Jase questioned further, not knowing why he was so interested.

Undertaker thought about the question, and he recalled a couple of lovers whom he still thought of, now and then. "Some of them, certainly. One was a reaper I instructed, when he was a fledgling. He was the one that convinced me it was all right to laugh. We drifted apart, once he graduated to Dispatch. There was also a lady...mortal."

He began to grin with the memory of how vocal she could be. "She was a screamer, that one." Remembering that he was in the presence of a virgin, Undertaker cleared his throat. "Anyhow, I was fond enough of some of them, but I have never fallen prey to that all-consuming love I see so many humans suffer from."

' _Not yet,_ ', he amended silently, admiring the way the cold sunlight shown on his companion's face through the window.

"We do not live in a world where most people get to marry for love, though." Jase pointed out, "The rich wed for social standing, though the poor are starting to let love in. Fewer men are selling their daughters to the highest bidder. It is such a shame when it happens…I find no reason to enter such a commitment with anyone where love is not present."

"That's true," mused Undertaker, "and I agree; it seems a waste to declare yourself a lifelong partner with someone if there's no love there. Some folk barely even _tolerate_ the people they marry. Personally, I'd rather be alone than attached to someone I don't even like to be in the same room with. And they say _I'm_ mad."

"You're in no rush, though. You have all the time in the world…for humans maybe it isn't madness. I chose a life of celibacy when I lost my chance at love, some marry who they can…maybe for some it's better than loneliness."

Undertaker shrugged. "I suppose, when you put it that way. Mayhap I take my longevity for granted. I don't suppose I'll ever be able to completely understand what motivates humans, anymore than they can understand what motivates me and my kind."

Undertaker grinned at him, and he propped his elbows on the table, flipped his long sleeves back and threaded his long fingers together to prop his chin on them. "Maybe you're the link. You could provide me a better understanding of mortals, and now you don't have the threat of aging to death stopping you from learning everything you could ever want to learn."

He shrugged again and straightened up, reaching for his pint. "But I don't want to give you a false sense of security. You can still be chopped up, burned or shot through the head like any mortal, I'll wager. Odds are you're more resilient to damage that would kill an ordinary man, though, and I'll certainly ruin someone's day if they try to harm you."

A barmaid came by and Undertaker went silent, sipping his ale.

Jase waited for her to pass on before continuing their conversation, "I have no intention to do anything that would lead me to being harmed in such a way. And self defense is different from attacking someone violently."

"Of course it is," agreed the reaper with a grin, "and that's why your compulsion is only temporary, my dear. Some folk don't share your gentle nature, I'm afraid."

He checked his pocket watch and clucked his tongue. "Speaking of which, I should probably re-apply the command, soon. We've also got to get going, if we're to get to the crematory before my associate leaves for the day. Let's finish our drinks and visit the men's room, before we go."

Jase nodded, finishing up his second glass of water and waiting for Undertaker to finish his own drink before standing and handing the man his sack, trying not to think of what lay inside.

* * *

 

Undertaker found it no more pleasant the second time than the first, to employ the command that triggered Jase's compulsion. When he brought the doll back out of his trance, Jase must have noticed the sour look on his face, but Undertaker waved it off and excused it on the filthy state of the men's room. They left the pub and walked the rest of the way to the crematorium.

"Well, look who we have here," said the old man in the shack out the front, when Undertaker ducked inside. "Haven't seen you for a while, Undertaker." He was seated in an old rocking chair that creaked with his motions, and he had a book in his hand and a pair of reading glasses on.

The reaper smiled in greeting, tipping his hat to the man. "'Morning, Lester. I've got a job for you today, if it isn't too late."

The thin old man wiped his balding head and got out of his rocking chair to approach. He offered a hand to Undertaker, who shook it. "You caught me in time. Though you could always have let my assistant take care of the matter for you, when he arrives."

"Nobody cremates like you, old chap," said the reaper.

Lester took off his reading glasses and folded them, leaving them to dangle from the chain around his neck. He peered curiously at Jase and he nodded at him. "And who's this young fellow? Can't say I've ever seen him with you before."

"This is my new assistant, Mr. Dubois. Jase, meet Lester Crowley. We've been collaborating for years, he and I."

"Pleasure, lad," said the crematorium operator. He frowned a little at Undertaker and muttered under his breath. "Blind, is he? I've never known you to take an assistant before, but one that can't see?"

Undertaker chortled softly. "He's not blind; he simply has an optical condition that makes his eyes highly sensitive to light. He gets around just fine."

"Ah, I see." The old man nodded in understanding. "Well, what have you got for me today? We'd best get right on it."

Undertaker dropped the sack to the floor and opened it for Lester's inspection. "Clean as a whistle," he demonstrated.

"Indeed," answered the old man. "What shall I do with the ashes, then?"

Undertaker shrugged. "Spread them in your garden for fertilizer. There were no instructions beyond cremation." He took out his coin purse and counted out some money for the old man. "This will likely be the last time I call on you, friend. In fact, it may well be the last time we see one another. It's been a pleasure working with you."

"Oh?" said Lester curiously. "Are you moving your business, then?"

"Actually, I'm taking a hiatus," answered the reaper, "and I don't know when I'll return. I think I'll get out and see the world, a bit."

Lester frowned, his gaze flicking to the attractive, blindfolded young man behind Undertaker. "Why get an assistant, if you're taking a holiday from the trade?"

Undertaker fell prey to his mischievous inner demon, and he grinned broadly. He put an arm around Jase and hugged him close without warning, and he leaned over the little old cremator and whispered to him.

"All right, you've got me. He's actually my companion, if you know what I mean." He gave Jase a squeeze and he nudged Lester, inadvertently making him stumble a bit.

Jase gasped, caught off-guard by the sudden embrace, "I-I am no such thing! Honnêtement, vous agissez comme un tel pervers, vous chose pécheresse!" he accused with reddened cheeks.

Just as scandalized as the young man, Lester ogled the black-clad reaper. "I've no idea what the lad just said, but I agree with his tone!"

Undertaker laughed heartily. "He just accused me of acting like a pervert." He released his small companion and patted him lightly on the shoulder. "Don't get yourselves nosebleeds, I was kidding."

Still snickering helplessly over their reactions, Undertaker put his coin purse away and bowed cordially to the old man. "My thanks for your services, friend. My blushing assistant and I should be on our way, now. Come along, Mr. Dubois. We still have things to do."

Lester shook his head at the reaper. "You always did have an odd sense of humor. Safe travels, Undertaker."

Jase nodded and bid the man a good day before turning and hurrying after his master out of the shop and into the streets, "You're horrible sometimes." He said, looking up at him through the protective lace of his blindfold, "Jokes like that could get Scotland Yard after the both of us!"

Undertaker stopped in his tracks. "Scotland Y—oh, come now!" He chuckled with amusement. "Victorian society may frown upon it, but the Yard has more important things to do than throw people in jail for being tosspots."

He grinned down at him and winked, though the young man likely couldn't see it through the fringe of his bangs and the shadow of his hat's brim. "You know I can't get through the day without a laugh, my dear. Admit it; I'm fun."

"You're…frustrating." He said, not wanting to admit that the reaper was fun—sometimes. If he admitted it now, it'd only encourage the man to do the same more often.

Undertaker feigned a sigh of disappointment, and he gave Jase a gentle prod in the ribs with his nails that made him squeak. "I suppose frustrating is better than dull."

They reached the main street, and Undertaker hailed a carriage to take them into the market square. "We'll stop into a cleaner pub for another quick drink when we get there," he promised his companion after giving the driver instructions. "Don't pout at me, that way. It makes me want to pinch your cheeks. I'll purchase the finest crafting materials for your wood carving, to make up for my teasing."

"Y-you don't have to…I can use what I find in the wood like I always have. Besides, That purse will not stay full…and I have no money to contribute to our leaving London…"

Undertaker climbed in behind him, shut the door and drew the curtains for shade.

"We aren't likely to find any suitable crafting wood for you until we're well away from the city," insisted the reaper. "I know of a crafting shop in the market that sells blocks of it. It's where I purchase my apothecary boxes. That will at least give you something to start on, at least."

Undertaker watched him covertly beneath the mask of his hair curious and amused by his humble nature and his desire to contribute. "As for money, you needn't worry about that. Your contribution is in your cooperation, Jase. Each day, I'm learning a little bit more about how you work. That's enough for me."

He kept it to himself that he was confident that he might be able to duplicate the process he'd used to immortalize this young man, though Jase would always be a unique case, due to the circumstances surrounding his transition. Undertaker was still quite eager to see what sort of untapped potential his humble little dollie had hidden beneath that slight, sweet frame. He smiled at the thought. His thirst for knowledge was nearly as strong as his growing fondness and attraction to the former priest.

"But I want to be more than just your experiment and research!" Jase insisted, "I can assist in other ways—I can sell carvings at least…"

Seeing how passionately he felt about it, Undertaker gave him a gentle smile. "You know you're more than that to me, even if I natter on about discovering all the secrets of life and death. I used to trade in laughter, not money. That's how much a smile or a laugh means to me, Jase. Boredom is my enemy, and whether you mean to or not, you always manage to keep me entertained. It's also nice to have someone to talk to that will talk back—and _intelligently_ , I might add. You don't just blurt any nonsense that comes to mind; you provide stimulating conversation."

Undertaker reached out to lay a hand over Jase's knee and give it a little squeeze. "That's worth more to me than the coin of the realm, lovely, but if you want to start trying to turn a profit with your craft once we've gotten settled elsewhere, who am I to stop you? Put your talents to whatever good use you choose."

Feeling the urge to kiss him, Undertaker withdrew his hand and sat back again.

_'Not too friendly, now. Teasing is all well and good, but no more romantic kisses until he asks for it.'_

Following the dictates of his logical mind was getting difficult for a compulsive reaper like him, though.

The Doll adverted his gaze behind his blindfold, "You tell me I'm more than just another one of your Dolls…but I don't understand how."

Undertaker's brows went up. "I just explained it to you, my dear. If you were just another dollie, we wouldn't be heading to the market together right now, and we surely wouldn't be having this conversation."

Feeling a bit like he kept miring himself deeper and unable to understand why, the reaper crossed one leg over the other, and he propped an elbow on the topside knee to rest his chin on his fist in a thinking pose. "What proof do you need, Jase? What else do you want from me? I'm used to carrying on conversations with the dead, not the living. I don't know what else to do to show you how I..."

He trailed off with a frown, shaking his head. He didn't even know how to describe how he felt about him, and it had only been a day since he scared the chap with his kiss. If he weren't so certain it would cause another panic incident, he would have probably told his brain to kindly take a flying leap, and he would have grabbed the doll to show him with another kiss.

Undertaker sighed, and he parted the curtain a bit to peek out the window at the passing streets. He really wasn't good at being somber. "I can't make you see yourself the way I see you."

"You just...confuse me. I'm your Doll…and your friend, but you are socially awkward, to be honest, and seem to be learning what friendship is…yet you kissed me, and said you want to make me yours, yet I'm not sure you really feel love—sin aside—and though you have cared for a few individuals, you never found them worthy of being a 'life mate' as you put it… I just…want to understand where it is you stand."

Undertaker stared at him, not denying that he was socially awkward. Ages of isolation tended to do that to a person. "Where I stand?" He tilted his head to the side and smiled. "What a peculiar way to put it, Jase. Is this a question of whether I can love you, if you come into my arms?"

Once again, Jase's cheeks flushed, "N-not necessarily!" he denied, though some tiny voice in the back of his mind questioned his words.

"No?" Undertaker sighed. "Pity. I had an answer prepared and everything. I guess you'll never know."

The carriage came to a stop, and the driver hopped down and opened the door for them. "Here we are, sirs," he announced, tipping his felt derby hat. "Thank you for your patronage."

Undertaker looked out the door, and he gestured invitingly at his blindfolded companion. "After you."

Jase lingered in his seat a moment, looking at Undertaker before getting up and stepped down out of the hansom and waited for the reaper to join him and pay the driver. Once they were left alone once more, he mumbled, "I'm just so confused…everything I know, everything I learn…contradicts everything else…I'm not sure what to think or feel…" he admitted in a low voice before turning in the direction Undertaker had gestured that they would be going and starting to walk.

Because he could—in a way—identify with Jase's issue, the reaper felt sympathy for him. He tried to comfort him, speaking in a low, dulcet voice he rarely used in public, as a rule. The guise of the eccentric, half-baked mortician had served him well over the years, and sometimes he startled himself when he used his _real_ voice.

"I haven't been very kind to you on that front, have I? Teasing you, pushing your buttons...like I said before, it's going to take some practice for me to learn how to be a decent friend. I've had some experience myself with being disillusioned, as you know, and I can tell you one thing for sure; you're the only one that can determine who you are and how you feel in the end."

The reaper had to move closer to the doll to avoid bumping into a woman passing by, and he unconsciously put himself between her and Jase to try and prevent the flesh hunger from being triggered by her nearness. When Jase's expression showed no signs of going blank as it had when he attacked the man in the house, the ancient reaper relaxed a bit. He hand to bend over quite a bit to murmur into Jase's ear, but it was worth it when the young man shivered a bit in response.

"You've only been living this life for a week, love. Give yourself time. It could take months, or even years, but you'll eventually find a new calling. In the meantime, try not to over think everything. It only makes it worse—trust me. Your craft should offer some much-needed distraction for you, I think."

Undertaker almost added that should Jase desire it, he was more than happy to provide further distraction for him. He remembered his oath and he fought his impulses with a grimace.

Jase sighed, mostly for a distraction from how close the other was to him, "Does…God even care about humans sinning..?" Should he care if God cared at all for anything? He was so torn between his faith he held so dear as a human—and moving on.

"Probably not half as much as the clergy would have you believe," theorized Undertaker. He spotted the craft shop he was after across the street, and he guided Jase to the corner. When the traffic was clear, they crossed.

"I've never met the almighty, myself," said the reaper. "If you ask me, I'd say it's too busy creating things to care about every little thing we do on these planes. Humans spend so much time shaming themselves and each other, I doubt God needs to bother shaking a finger at them. Here we are, love."

He opened the shop door and the cheerful tinkle of the bell greeted them as he ushered Jase inside.

The Doll nodded, letting himself think over things as he was ushered into the shop that smelled strongly of freshly cut wood. He slowed to a stop, closing his eyes and breathing in that scent that he loved, a small smile crossing his lips.

Undertaker took a moment to appreciate that little smile, and he wished he'd thought to bring Jase here earlier. He bent over to murmur in his ear as he mentally reviewed what he needed to pick up, himself.

"Why don't you have a look around and pick out a few things, while I have a chat with my box-maker up the stairs?" He gestured at the little spiral staircase leading up to the second floor, where a ruckus of crafting could be heard.

The Doll gave a small nod and opened his eyes again, "I wont be getting much…just something to get me started as we travel."

"Fair enough." Undertaker left him to it, and he climbed the steps to the second floor. He selected a few wooden boxes for himself, and then he met up with his companion on the first floor again.

"Is that all?" he said with a nod at the two blocks of carving wood in his dollie's hands. When Jase shrugged, he gave up trying to convince him to take more and he went to the register with him to check out.

The clerk wrapped it all up for them and they left. Undertaker had plans to hit the pub for a drink next, and then make for the harbor to purchase tickets for the next ship across the English channel. Unfortunately, the moment they stepped outside the shop, he was forced to make a quick revision of his plans.

Undertaker grabbed Jase without ceremony and he dragged him into the alley between the crafting shop and the flower shop next to it. He put his hand over the young man's mouth to stifle his exclamation of surprise, and he cloaked the both of them from mortal view.

"One of the priests from your former chapel," explained the reaper in a whisper to his companion, nodding at the Irishman crossing the street. "They think you're dead now. It wouldn't do for one of them to spot and recognize you."

This was one of the things he'd been afraid of, when he decided to take Jase out with him. He needed to conduct the cremation and travel business during daylight hours though, unfortunately. He watched as Father O'Reilly ran a hand over his balding scalp and discussed something with a merchant operating a bread stall, across the street.

Jase closed his mouth and peeked around the corner at his stout Irish brother. "…It would be Father O'Reilly, wouldn't it…" he mumbled, looking at the usually cheerful, gentle, but strongly opinionated man. They had been good friends. The Irishman had been the first to welcome him to England, right off the ship, and they had often worked together.

"We can't chance him seeing you," muttered the reaper. "Even if his heart could take the shock, I can easily imagine the uproar it would cause. Your former church might worship a man who came back from the dead, but I doubt their reaction to seeing _you_ do it will be a pretty thing. Come, Jase. We'll go out the other side of the alley and take another carriage right to the harbor."

Jase nodded, "…Death is cruel…not letting people say goodbye to their friends before they pass…" he sighed, lingering a second longer to bid the man a silent goodbye before turning to follow the reaper.

The comment made Undertaker think. He'd taken the souls of children while their grieving parents wailed over their lifeless bodies. He'd reaped sons and daughters, wives and mothers, husbands and fathers...but he never really considered the agony of those left behind. His concern had always been for the dead and dying, not the living. Those he came for never suffered, when he reaped them. Even when they were in agony before he arrived, they died in peace. It took centuries for Undertaker to perfect his art to the point where mortals greeted him as an old friend, rather than an enemy, when their time came.

But the living lingered on in pain, and neither Jase nor his Irish friend could say their final goodbyes, even though the doll wasn't actually dead. It _did_ seem cruel, and if he weren't so certain that it would only scare the man to death, Undertaker might have been tempted to arrange a "visit from the afterlife" between Jase and Father O'Reilly, to give them both closure.

The last thing he needed to do was kill his dollie's friend by accident, though.

"We'll send him a care package," he decided aloud, speaking softly to his companion. "Something you think he would like. We can send it to the Church anonymously, once we've settled into our next destination. That can be your goodbye to him."

"Thank you…" he glanced over his shoulder once more to look back before they turned the corner and headed off to the docks.

Undertaker got them a small cabin aboard the next ship scheduled to the Netherlands, and they made one more stop off at a bottle shop. He purchased a drinking flask for himself and a canteen for Jase, to ensure the doll could always carry water with him to sip on as needed. He just bought the flask for himself because he thought the silver inlaid skulls on it were pretty.

* * *

 

They returned to the house and spent the rest of the evening packing things into crates stacked in the basement. Undertaker took a small break for dinner, and then he resumed his careful packing. He wanted to avoid staying in cities for very long, if possible. Not only would it decrease the chances of being spotted and tattled on to nosey Dispatch authorities out looking for him, but living in the country would give his dollie the chance to go outside and enjoy the sun, without worrying about running into anyone and trying to devour them by accident.

"We'll go to Amsterdam first," he explained to his companion as he filled the last crate with apothecary jars and bottles. He grunted as he shut the lid and began to hammer nails into it to seal it shut. "From there, we can take the train to Düsseldorf. I'll contact my associates there and we'll find a place in the countryside to stay for a few weeks, while I do some work for them. That ought to fill the coffers back up again, and you could sell your woodcarvings in the market there, if you like. I hear there's a nice demand for that sort of thing in Germany, right now."

He finished up and he looked around the basement, checking one last time to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything. He gave a nod and he smiled at Jase. "If all goes according to schedule, we'll have our own horses and carriage to take our own route to your home country. I estimate we ought to be in France by the end of spring, at the latest."

Jase nodded as he sat in front of his chest. He'd taken everything out so that he could pack it in a better organized fashion. He folded his clothes neatly and made sure he collected his few belongings left around the small hut as he packed, leaving his blocks of carving wood and tools on top. True, he'd only gotten two blocks of wood, but one was a fairly large piece and it would take him a while to carve what he had planned for it, wanting to keep that one to himself. "We should avoid my hometown of Cahors, though…many people know me there, and if the church knows I'm dead, then they would have sent word back there."

"A wise idea," agreed Undertaker with a nod. "Have you thought of what you'd like to send the Irishman?"

"A carving…once I finish it." Jase nodded, I'll start it on the ship."

"I see." Undertaker smiled. "I'm curious to see what you come up with, love."

He stretched and yawned, arching his back leisurely in a graceful manner. "Well, I think I'm for the bath and the coffin. We've got quite a day ahead of us, so I wouldn't advise staying up too late."

He reached down and patted the doll on the shoulder—the only show of affection he would allow himself, at the moment. "Goodnight, Jase."

"Goodnight, Undertaker." He said, glancing up at him, "I shouldn't be too much longer." He said, slipping the last of his things in the chest and closing it.

* * *

To be continued...


	7. Chapter 7

_We set off from London the next morning, and we arrived in Amsterdam late that night. I purchased some new laboratory supplies that I'd been forced to leave behind at my old shop. I had to apply Jase's compulsion several times during our journey, and I could tell when the flesh lust made him "black out", because he would stop in his tracks and his face would go blank of expression. I actually had to scoop him up and carry him in my arms at one point, when we were in the busiest part of the city. There were too many people around, and the poor dear has no control yet over his instinctive urges. He would have just stood there like a wooden...well...doll...if I hadn't stopped and picked him up._

_We stayed in Amsterdam for the weekend, with only our clothing trunks. I arranged for the rest of my things to be transported to the address in Düsseldorf where we will be staying for a while. I spent a bit extra on the train ticket, to ensure that my dollie and I got a private booth. Any time spent in the close presence of mortals tends to drain him, as well as heat his body up. I hope the privacy of the booth will be enough, but I could feel the heat radiating from him as we boarded earlier, and I suspect I may have to resort to creative measures to cool him down again._

_This may be a long train ride._

* * *

As Undertaker sat writing in his journal again, Jase sat cross-legged on his bed, a rag spread out over his blanket to catch the wood shavings that fell as he carved into the smaller block of wood. It's shape and form slowly starting to take on a recognizable image. He bent over, sticking his tongue out into the corner of his mouth as he worked carefully, concentrating on his art.

Undertaker looked over at his companion on the other bunk, and he grinned at the sight of him. Jase didn't even seem to be aware that he was poking his tongue out that way. Again, the doll managed to look endearing without even trying. They had the shade drawn on the window so that he could work without his blindfold, and Undertaker could see well enough to write without requiring additional light. Shinigami eyes had notoriously poor sight when it came to seeing things from a distance, but their night vision was better than the average human being's.

The reaper watched his companion for a while, taking note of the way he brushed his thumbs over parts after carving them to sweep away any flakes. He handled the carving knife like it was second nature to him, and the wood was taking shape beneath his skilled hands as if by magic.

Undertaker's traitorous mind immediately went down avenues he'd been trying to avoid, and he wondered what those hot little hands would feel like on his body, if Jase ever took him up on his offer. Sleeping in the room that they shared at the Amsterdam Inn they had stayed at was a special kind of torture. For one, Undertaker wasn't used to beds, and he'd sent his coffins off with the rest of his things to their future residency in Düsseldorf. Additionally, the only room available to them had a queen-sized bed. Out of courtesy for Jase's fear of intimacy, Undertaker offered to sleep in the sofa during their stay, but Jase insisted that they could share the bed.

The ancient reaper had never suffered so much difficulty in keeping his hands to himself. He spent both nights in Amsterdam fighting the compulsion to put his arms around his dollie and hold him close. Regardless of his inability to find a true commitment in his long life, Undertaker was a cuddler. It never failed, when he shared a bed with someone. He was amazed he'd managed to avoid snatching Jase to him in his sleep, but perhaps his decision to designate one of his pillows as the "hugging pillow" was to thank for that.

In addition to the urge to cuddle, he also had the desire to kiss and touch him to contend with. The entire weekend was really quite a miserable test to the reaper's willpower. He was happy to leave Amsterdam and be on their way. At least on the train they had their own separate, narrow bunks to sleep in, so he wasn't likely to reach out and try to grab Jase for a cuddle. If he did, he'd probably just end up rolling onto the floor.

Undertaker snorted with amusement at the thought.

"Hmm?" The sudden noise from the reaper caught the Doll's attention and he glanced up at him, "What were you thinking about that would be so amusing?" He didn't know if he wanted to know, but the question left his lips regardless.

"Just thinking of snuggles," answered the reaper with a broad grin and a wink that the doll probably couldn't even see beneath the bangs covering his eyes. Lying propped on his elbows on his stomach, Undertaker kicked his booted feet absently. He nodded at the block of wood in Jase's hand—which the doll seemed to have suddenly forgotten. "It's looking interesting, love. What is it going to be?"

"Snuggles?" Jase looked back down, "Oh, A mother cat and her kittens." He turned it around in his hand and held it up, "Father O'Reilly always had a soft spot for kittens."

Now that the young man held it up at the right angle, Undertaker could see. He sat up and he got out of his bunk to have a closer look, leaning over. "Oh yes, I see now! Quite lovely, my dear."

He chose not to elaborate on the bit about cuddles. The tracks curved and the reaper steadied himself easily as he checked the time. "Hmm, I might see about visiting the dining car for some lunch. I'll bring back a bottle of water for you to refill your canteen."

"I'll come with you…my legs could use the stretch. I haven't left our cabin since we boarded." The doll said, setting aside his project and stood up, fixing his sleeves as he had rolled them up while working to prevent them from tearing should he slip with a tool. Normally he wouldn't worry, but working on a moving train did make things unpredictable. He pulled on his blindfold and stood up, stretching a little.

Undertaker grabbed his hat, stuffed it on his head and opened the door. "After you," he invited.

He stepped out behind Jase, and he gestured at the narrow space behind himself. "The dining car is back this way, I believe," he explained.

An old man approached, and Undertaker flattened himself back against the door of their cabin to make room for him. He kept an eye on his companion, now that he was aware of the blackout problems he suffered in the close company of humans. Sure enough, the doll's mouth went slack as the human brushed past him, and Undertaker impulsively took hold of his arm to steady him just in case.

After the man passed far enough away, Jase snapped too again, unaware that anything had happened, until he realized his thirst had grown and Undertaker was suddenly touching him. He said nothing, as he normally did once snapping to himself again, and moved in the direction of the dinning car. He wasn't unaware of the condition of his new impulses. He'd found out himself without Undertaker's help that he only was affected by those guilty of great, and likely, unforgivable sins. Children, women, good men…they were safe. But it did startle him how many people did make him hunger.

Undertaker's reaper precognition picked up on the same things that likely triggered Jase's blackout, and he didn't think the man's deeds bore repeating to the sensitive little Frenchman. Satisfied that Jase had regained self-awareness, he cast a glance at the old man before moving up behind his companion.

"He'll be buried within the week," he informed the doll in a mutter—referring to the man they'd encountered. "He won't get the chance to harm anyone else."

Not that he gave a damn one way or the other whether the old fart poisoned another living creature again or not, but he knew that if Jase would if he could sense the same thing from him.

"You can tell when people are getting closer to death?" Jase asked, not at all surprised, "Can…you prevent it?" he added, a little more curious as they entered the next car.

Undertaker kept his voice pitched low, to avoid people overhearing. "It depends. I prevented your death by erasing it from your record, but had you been too far-gone, that mightn't have worked. That fellow back there is on his way out because he has a bum ticker. I couldn't fix that if I wanted to.

He had to move aside again to allow a young woman and her beau to pass, but he was as slim as he was tall, so it caused no difficulty for him. Thankfully, neither of them carried the black residue of deepest sin on their auras. Once they had passed, Undertaker looked around at the interior of the dining car, and he found an empty booth to dine in.

"This way, love," he said to his companion, guiding him over to it. He could sense a particularly unsavory aura coming from a woman near the exit to the next car up ahead, and he shot a grimace her way and made it a point not to sit down anywhere near her.

He sat down across from Jase and he picked up the menu in the wire rack pinned to the wall. He barely had a chance to look it over before a waiter came over, smiling widely in greeting beneath his curled mustache.

"Bonjour, monsieurs!" he greeted with a little bow. "I will be your faithful servant during your dining experience, this evening! Have you seen the wine list?"

Undertaker smirked at the accent the man was putting on, and he glanced over at his companion. He could see by the little twist to Jase's lips that he found the fake French accent more disturbing than funny.

Clearing his throat, the reaper sought out the item that seemed most appetizing to him. "I'll have the lamb cutlets and peas, thank you. A glass of chardonnay will be fine."

The man wrote it down. "Oui, oui, monsieur. And your companion?" With his fake smile plastered on his face to go with his fake accent, he looked at Jase. His gaze flicked over the young man with curiosity, and Undertaker could see the question in his eyes concerning the blindfold.

Rather than answer for the doll, Undertaker watched to see how he would handle it. He hid a grin behind his fingers and he pretended to take great interest in his emerald ring.

Jase looked up at the man through his blindfold, his expression lacking amusement, " _Je vais prendre un grand verre d'eau avec un côté de respect pour les citoyens de mon pays d'origine, monsieur. Je vous remercie de laisser tomber les moqueries de mon accent et bâton à la vôtre, car je suis sûr qu'il est merveilleux dans son propre droit. Est-ce que votre horrible attentat à feindre une Frencham vous apporter quelque chose utile de votre temps à essayer de se rappeler de prendre la parole dans une telle façon?_ Oh, and please do remember the ice, monsieur."

Undertaker did his best to hold back his laughter as he mentally translated what his uncommonly irate dollie said to the waiter, to the best of his ability. His French could still use some refining, but he understood well enough. The bit about taking a tall glass of water with a side of respect for his country and culture almost made Undertaker want to applaud him, but he was too delighted with seeing Jase express more of that feisty spirit he'd seen charming little glimpses of, so far.

The poor waiter stood there looking dumbfounded and embarrassed. Undertaker beaconed him, and when he bent over to listen, the reaper grinned broadly and he summarized Jase's rant for him. "He doesn't like you," he whispered.

The waiter straightened up and looked at Jase, clearly flustered. "I...forgive me! I did not know you were from the mother country!" He laughed nervously. "My father was French, you see. I'm afraid my grasp on the language is not so good as yours!"

Beneath his fringe, Undertaker rolled his eyes. "Quit while you're ahead, chap. If you continue to put on that fake accent, I just might let my friend eat _you_ for lunch. By the way, check your watch. It's just a little past noon, not evening."

"Eh...heh...oui...I mean yes sir," answered the waiter nervously, too intimidated by Undertaker's grin and Jase's frown to bother asking what he meant about letting the doll eat him. He took off then, moving as quickly as he could.

When the waiter was gone, Undertaker began to chuckle through his teeth. He closed his mouth over the sound, but he ended up making a peculiar farting sound with his lips as the laughter fought its way out, and he covered his mouth when Jase's head turned to him and tilted.

"Sorry love," muttered the reaper. "That was a golden rant, indeed. Pity most of it was lost on him, but...I'd best go potty. Back in a jiffy."

Now snickering helplessly, Undertaker climbed out of the booth and made his way back through the dining car to the little lavatories near the back.

" _Franchement_ …" The small Frenchman sighed to himself, distracting himself with the menu still setting on the table, though he had no use for it, " _Il ne peut même pas parler français._.." he paused, realizing that he had been speaking in French, and if the waiter really didn't know the language… "I do hope he knows I ordered a water…"

After relieving his bladder and having a good laugh in the lavatory, Undertaker used the washbowl and wiped his hands off. The waiter returned just as he sat down at the booth again, and undertaker raised his brows as the man sat down a glass full of ice chips before Jase. He placed a glass of Chardonnay before Undertaker and bowed, but the reaper stopped him before he could go.

"What is this?" he asked with a gesture at the glass of ice.

"Ice, sir," answered the waiter nervously. He looked at Jase. "Just as you asked, young sir."

Undertaker face-palmed. Even _he_ had his limits. "He asked for ice- _water_ , you buffoon. Just bring us a pitcher of it, and be quick."

The waiter nodded and left again.

The Doll sighed, "I'm sorry…I've caused a bit of a scene, haven't I?"

"Not at all," assured Undertaker lightly. He picked up his wine glass and he held it up to the light, tapping his fingernails against the smooth surface of it. "I don't think anyone paid special attention, save me. I found it highly entertaining to watch you put that phony in his place, my dear. His act was in poor taste. They call me a madman, and even I can see that."

He felt the unsavory presence of the woman he'd seen earlier coming closer, and he frowned. Undertaker looked up and he replaced his wine glass as the attractive blond woman approached. She appeared to be on her way back to the passenger coaches, but she was getting too close.

"Jase," murmured the reaper, "scoot closer to the window."

But it was too late for the doll to comply with his advice, even if he'd tried. The tracks curved and as the train followed it, the slight directional change caused a few standing passengers to require a moment to brace. The woman nearly fell right on top of Jase as she tried to pass by the table, and Undertaker clenched his jaw unconsciously when he saw Jase go tense all over. He was due to have his compulsion reinforced soon, and Undertaker knew the folly of waiting until after lunch to do it when he saw how blank the doll's expression went, and when Jase opened his mouth wide and turned his head toward the blond woman, the reaper acted with inhuman speed.

Undertaker shot out of his booth seat and he helped the woman right herself, placing his body between her and Jase, and turning his back on the doll. He felt the interesting sensation of the Jase's teeth pressing against his right buttock, before withdrawing. It was probably a blessing that Jase's conscious mind typically went dormant when he was overcome by the hunger. If the horror of trying to devour a woman on a train full of passengers weren't enough to traumatize him, nearly sinking his teeth into his master's rump surely would have.

"There you are, Madame," Undertaker said cordially to the woman, doing this best to block her aura from his dollie. She really was a _loathsome_ individual, beneath that pretty exterior. She and her family made their fortune in the flesh trade, smuggling abducted girls to serve as 'entertainment' for those who paid the right price—and those girls were rarely seen or heard from again by their loved ones, once the money exchanged hands.

"Thank you, sir," she said with a pearly smile. She became uneasy at the chilling way he smiled back at her, and she removed her hand from his and excused herself hastily.

Undertaker turned back to his companion to find him lying sprawled in the booth, and there were whispers of curiosity from nearby passengers as he bent over Jase and tried to revive him.

The woman's sin and temptation had been too much for Jase. He'd not had a cooling bath for a few days and his temperature had already been high. But that hunger only made it worse and seconds after trying to take a chunk out of his master's posterior, he'd collapsed due to his inner heat.

"Jase? Come on, now…wake up." He lightly slapped the doll's face, and he hissed at the overwhelming heat he felt. He gathered him into his arms and hefted him up. The waiter saw him getting ready to leave with him, and he called out an inquiry about the food.

"Keep it warm," answered the reaper. "I'll return for it to take it to our booth later. Excuse me…coming through."

He pushed his way through to the exit, and Jase stirred and moaned as he got to the door. "It's all right, love," soothed the reaper, though the heat radiating from the young man felt like it was actually starting to burn him through their clothing. He feared Jase might spontaneously combust in a burst of holy fire, if he didn't cool him off right away.

"I've got you," he promised when Jase's head lolled against his arm and he whimpered.

The Doll was only half aware of everything. His mind was back from going mindless with lust for the flesh of the woman in the Dinning cart, but he felt so hot, he could even feel the fire inside him trying to overwhelm his body. With a moan, he leaned against Undertaker, arms weakly slipping around his cool neck under his curtain of silver hair, "So…h-hot…" he pressed his forehead to the reaper's cheek, as if he could sense the chill of death beneath his skin…he needed it…he needed to cool off, why wasn't it working?

Undertaker got him into their private booth and he locked the door and drew the curtains behind him. He laid the suffering doll down onto his bunk, and he quickly retrieved Jase's canteen from him. He gave it a shake, and he groaned when he realized it was less than half full. That wasn't going to be enough.

Undertaker impulsively reached out to stroke the hair away from Jase's sweating forehead, and he frowned at how rapidly the perspiration dried up. "Hold on, my dear. I'll be back directly."

Without any warning, he opened the canteen and he poured the remaining water over Jase's hair, soaking it. He froze that water immediately with his reaper abilities, making the hair go white with ice crystals.

"That ought to keep your brain from frying, long enough for me to fill this up and come back," he assured the doll, and then he got up and left the booth, canteen in hand.

He saw a service girl approaching to offer damp towels to occupants, to wipe their faces and hands off after their meals. Undertaker waved her over and he took one of the towels with muttered thanks, and he asked her to bring a pitcher of ice water to his booth as soon as she had the chance. He went into the lavatory, filled the canteen and hurried back to the booth.

He found the bed smoldering beneath the Doll's writhing form, Jase's usually pale skin flushing red at a visible pace. The Frenchman whimpered, the ice in his hair melting and evaporating from his roots and any place his long hair touched his body, even through his clothes. He seemed desperate to be cooled, having ripped off his blindfold and vest, his shirt missing buttons and exposing his reddened chest.

Undertaker didn't waste another moment. He swooped over to the bed and he carelessly knocked his hat off of his head and pushed his bangs back, so that he could see better. He unscrewed the canteen and he immediately began to pour the cool water over Jase's heated body. He considered removing his clothing, but he thought it was best to let the water soak into it to retain it. He concentrated as he worked, and the temperature around him and the doll dropped dramatically.

"Shh, love," murmured the reaper when the dazed, swirled blue eyes opened and Jase moaned. "We'll have you cooled off soon...you'll see."

There was a knock at the cabin booth door, and Undertaker reluctantly left Jase's side to answer it. The service girl was on the other side, and she shivered and tried to see past him when fog rolled out as the tall Shinigami opened the door.

"Sir, is everything okay?" she asked with concern, handing over the pitcher of ice water he'd requested.

Undertaker blocked her view and he smiled down at her. "Absolutely. Thanks, love. We'll let you know if we require anything else."

With that said, he shut the door in her face and locked it again, and he returned to Jase's side. The frozen material of his garments was already beginning to thaw, but when he placed a bare hand on the doll's panting chest, he felt that the temperature had dropped a bit. The flush was slowly leaving, but Undertaker wasn't confident that he could let his guard down for even a second. This was the worst he'd ever seen Jase get, and he was sincerely worried that he might lose him, if he wasn't constantly diligent.

He knew that the preternatural coolness of his body comforted his dollie when he got overheated, and when he deliberately manifested death's chill it amplified the effect. People shared warmth to survive in the cold, so there was nothing to say he couldn't share his chill to help his companion survive this consuming heat.

"Well my darling, that leaves only one thing for me to do," he decided aloud. "It might scandalize you, but I promise I'll respect you in the morning."

He couldn't be sure how much of that Jase understood, but now wasn't the time to entertain the doll's modesty. Undertaker straightened up again, and he began to undress.

"Hnn…."Jase, in attempt to reach for the pitcher of water, his vision blurred from the heat and making it more difficult, rolled over and fell onto the floor of the cabin with a dull thud.

Undertaker dropped his robes to the floor and he knelt beside the young man, clucking his tongue. "Clumsy dollie." Deciding that stripping to his pants and boots was enough, he picked Jase up and eased him back onto the bed. He grabbed the pitcher and one of the cups provided with it, and he climbed on with him. It took a bit of finesse, but he got Jase into his lap sidelong and he cradled him as he poured some of the water for him.

"Here," offered the reaper, holding the cup to Jase's lips. "Drink."

He held it steady for him as the doll began to swallow thirstily, and he dropped his own body temperature further, radiating as much cold as he could without making himself sick. Undertaker waited until Jase drank the entire cup, before pouring another one and carefully setting the pitcher aside, leaning it against his hip to keep it from spilling.

"That's it," he encouraged in a dulcet murmur. "Well done."

Once the doll gulped down the second glass of water, his eyes drooped closed, and he lay against Undertaker's delectably cool chest. Yes…this is what he wanted—needed. This comforting cold embrace. He snuggled up against the source of cold and closed his eyes, soaking it up until his mind cleared and he drifted into a deep slumber.

Undertaker sat there hopelessly stunned as the doll drifted off to sleep. He'd expected Jase to struggle a bit, or at the very least to offer an embarrassed protest to being held so intimately, with this much exposed skin pressing against his own. Instead, he settled down right away and snuggled against him in such a trusting, sweet manner that the reaper's mind literally went blank.

"You must have been suffering worse than I imagined," murmured Undertaker at last. He absently stroked Jase's ponytail and back, and he nuzzled the crown of his damp head. He let his aura chill back up again and he shivered impulsively as frost formed on his skin as well as the doll's. He wasn't immune from the cold, after all—just far more resistant to it than humans.

Unwilling to move and risk waking his sleeping companion, Undertaker gave a light shrug and decided to just enjoy the moment for what it was. He held Jase tighter and sighed, enjoying the feel of his body lying so comfortably against his. He fit against him so nicely...as if designed just for him. In fact, Undertaker enjoyed it so much that he soon fell asleep too, with his arms wrapped around his companion protectively.

He was, after all, a cuddler.

* * *

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Jase now has his own Tumblr! Feel free to go ask questions or interact with him! http://undeaddollboy.tumblr.com/  
> please? :3

The train turned as it followed the iron tracks across the countryside, shifting the passengers within its carts who were either still sleeping, or starting to awaken and get ready for the day. The shift awoke Jase, who moaned and let his eyes flutter open, though he was so comfortable he didn't wish to get out of bed just yet. And strangely enough, he couldn't remember going to bed. The last he remembered was sitting in the dinning cart shortly after lunch. He didn't care enough to dwell on it, though, as he rolled over with the intent of staying asleep a little longer—only to slide off some sort of raise on the mattress. That wasn't right…

Sitting up and rubbing his swirled blue eyes, he looked over to where he had been sleeping. His pale cheeks flushing as he realized he'd been asleep on none-other than Undertaker himself; and that they were both half naked; his shirt having fallen the rest of the way off in his sleep. He gasped and pressed himself back into the corner of the bed, against two walls of their compartment. Just what had happened yesterday—and why couldn't he remember?

Even in his sleep, Undertaker sensed the absence of his companion's warmth. He grumbled and without even realizing he was doing so, he wriggled closer to the warmth he sensed and he snuggled against it with a sigh, nuzzling the spot where Jase's shoulder met his neck. Contented once more, he drifted further back into slumber.

Jase swallowed. They hadn't… _sinned_ together, had they? No…no, they likely would both be lacking in the rest of their clothing…at least he hoped so. "U-Undertaker…" he croaked with a painfully dry voice as he nudged the reaper.

Undertaker stirred and sighed. "Mmm?" he hummed sleepily, running his nails over the doll's smooth, lithe chest. He pressed a kiss against Jase's neck, still only half-conscious. He frowned a bit when he felt dampness under his hip, but it was a minor annoyance...not worth moving from his comfy position.

"Undertaker, _vieux pervers, se réveiller et me dire que nous n'avons rien fait_!" Jase panicked slightly.

In his drowsy frame of mind, it took Undertaker a moment to gather his wits and comprehend what his companion had just said to him. He lifted his head off of his shoulder and he looked around through his disheveled bangs with a sleepy frown.

"That isn't very nice, pet," he yawned, covering his mouth with a fist as he sat up. "Calling me a pervert, for shame. I cooled you off when you were about to combust...but I don't suppose you remember that."

He stretched leisurely, arching his back and reaching his arms over his head. He had a slight crick in the neck, so he tilted his head and popped it. Seeing the panicked look on his dollie's face, he started to grin at him.

"What, do you think old Undertaker had his way with you while you were out? Poor, naive dollie...if we had done that, you'd be sore in the bum now, regardless of how gentle I was with you. What have I said to you in the past about your consent in such matters, hmm?"

"I…I couldn't remember anything! I could have gotten—drunk or something!" the Frenchman protested.

Undertaker tilted his head to the side, his smile hardly fading. "On water? My, my...you _must_ be a lightweight!"

Jase's face flushed all over again, "Stop teasing, I'm almost as confused and lost as when I first woke up as a Doll!"

Undertaker toned it down out of courtesy, but he couldn't quite put away his smile. "Ah, you're a darling. Well Jase, I'll explain it to you. The compulsion I put you under before we boarded this train began to wear off while we were in the dining car. Unfortunately, a woman of...shall we say 'questionable' morality came too close for comfort, and she triggered you. I had to bodily intervene but it appears she provoked such a hunger in you that the spark inside of you flared to its burning point. You haven't had a good soak in a while, so this isn't very surprising to me. Long story short, I had to carry you in here, soak you down with water and share the death chill with you to keep you from burning up."

He glanced down at his own bare, scar-striped torso. "That's why we're in this state of undress. Don't worry, my dear; there was no inappropriate touching. I made a promise to you, and I mean to keep it. All I did was hold you."

_And that was found to be quite nice in itself._

Jase nodded and looked down at his knees, "Thank you."

Undertaker shrugged. "I couldn't very well let you burn up now, could I? I'd be a piss-poor friend and an irresponsible master, if I did."

Honestly though, he felt less and less like Jase's 'master' with each day. Instead, he was beginning to feel like a hopeless, smitten suitor, when he wasn't tutoring the doll on anatomy. Undertaker shifted and he frowned when he noticed the dampness beneath him again. He scooted aside and saw the dark spot on the mattress, and of course, he blurted the first thing that sprang to mind.

"You didn't wet the bed, did you?"

"I—I'm not a child, no matter how much I look like one!" Jase snapped, his face even redder, "Besides, I woke up on top of you—you'd be the wet one, not the mattress if it had been me!" He said, getting up and stumbling out of the small bed, grabbing a shirt and throwing it on as he left the cabin, slamming the sliding door shut behind him, only to return seconds later, shielding his eyes from the bright corridor and grabbing his blindfold before leaving again in the same manner.

The reaper stared after his departing dollie, and he couldn't decide whether to be amused or frustrated. "He's quite cranky when he wakes up."

Of course, he'd been teasing him mercilessly, too. He couldn't seem to help it. Undertaker sighed. He was getting too used to having companionship. This wasn't a good thing. He needed to reinforce the agreement they'd made when Jase first woke up, and he needed to just give up his romantic notions that the young man might overcome his church-taught shame and embrace him.

Suddenly, laughter was very hard to come by. Undertaker heaved another sigh, and he shook his head. "It's my own fault," he muttered. "Stupid old fool...why do you always do this to yourself?"

He thought he'd learned his lesson years ago, but apparently not. He moved to get out of the bunk and go find a maintenance person to bring fresh sheets, and his hand bumped against the pitcher he'd forgotten about. That was the source of the dampness he'd rolled in. He and Jase must have knocked it over while they slept.

"Ah well...too late now. The little chap can't take a joke and I can't keep fooling myself."

There were other ways to get physical affection. He didn't really need an emotional or mental connection...just a warm, willing body. Maybe all he really needed was a tumble, and then his head would be clearer and Jase could stop worrying about his advances.

He was so downcast over this latest quarrel that he completely forgot that he hadn't re-applied Jase's compulsion to stop him from attacking humans.

* * *

 

Jase made it down to the lavatory and washed his face before brushing back his hair into a neater ponytail and fixing his shirt—all of which he could have done in their cabin, but he needed the chance to calm himself. He took Undertaker all too seriously when he got flustered—and there was no denying to himself how comfortable and content he'd been laying atop the reaper, pressed against his cool, pale skin… No! There were those sinful thoughts again, and yet…he found that he cared less about the sinful thoughts than he had back in London… He sighed and moved to go back to the cabin, sliding open the door and freezing as he found himself face-to-face with the Blond woman who smiled at him, his mouth watering and his pupils under his blindfold growing wider as his hunger set in. His mind going blank.

Undertaker heard the scream as he finished putting his robe on, but he thought nothing of it at first. He was too depressed to give a damn if someone cut themselves or got into a fight or got caught in a lewd position or any other number of things that could have provoked that sound. Right now, he had more important things on his mind than petty human—

"Oh my god! Get him _off_ of her!" A woman cried.

"Is he rabid?" yelled a man. "I've seen this kind of thing before when people get infected!"

Undertaker realized then that the ruckus he was hearing likely wasn't from any ordinary situation. He'd forgotten to reinforce Jase's "leash".

Cursing and hoping he was wrong, the reaper yanked the door open and stepped out, looking up and down both hallways. He spotted Jase at the southern end of the car, and the little Frenchman was on top of a woman. He appeared to be savaging her and when a nearby young man tried to pull him off, Jase shoved him hard enough to send him flying several feet, to crash into the floor.

Undertaker rushed to stop the young man, speaking in a commanding voice.

"Jase, your master commands you to stop!"

The Doll halted in his actions, but the lust to continue was still obvious to any who looked. He hadn't managed to take a chunk out of the pretty blond, but deep scratches from his teeth could be seen marring her bloody cheek, her hands were wrapped around his neck, trying to keep him off her, and her entire body trembled in fear.

"What the bloody hell is this kid's problem? She screeched, "What kind of child attacks an innocent woman like this?"

"Is he mad?" asked an onlooker.

"Is he ill? Delusional?" asked another.

"Is he in your charge, sir?" a woman asked Undertaker.

Undertaker held his companion close, ready to manifest his death scythe and cut down anyone that tried to harm him. The blonde's declaration of being an "innocent woman" made him want to smirk, but he schooled his face into a calm mask and he spoke in his most professional tone of voice.

"I'm terribly sorry, Madame," he said to the woman courteously. "My companion isn't well, as you can see, and I am his doctor. He suffers Encephalitis; a condition that causes light sensitivity and swelling of the brain. He's usually quite docile, but he's past due for his meds, and I'm afraid sometimes the delusions can be very traumatic for him. The poor chap doesn't know who or where he is, when it happens. I assure you, it wasn't an act of conscious malice."

"What are you doing, bringing a boy with the potential to attack people onto a public train, Doctor? Shouldn't you have him locked up? Why was he walking around alone?" The man who had been thrown back asked, followed by the voice of the blonde.

"What, pray, did he think I was to attack me so?"

"As I said," Undertaker lied, "he's never attacked anyone, before today."

He looked at the blonde woman Jase had attacked. "I have no idea what he was thinking, Madame. The mind of a sick person isn't so easy to predict."

Undertaker turned to the man that had asked the first question. "Ordinarily I wouldn't let him of my sight, but he wandered off while I was dressing."

He shook his bangs out of his eyes and he smiled engagingly at the audience. "Wouldn't do for me to come bounding out in my skivvies, would it? There are ladies present, after all."

"Why'd he listen to you? He wouldn't listen to any of us." One man asked.

"And why on earth would you refer to yourself as 'master' to him?"

For a moment, Undertaker was stuck. He couldn't think of any good reason a doctor would refer to himself as "master" to a patient. Seeing the doubt growing on their faces, he improvised in his usual way. He got the idea when he looked at the blonde Jase had attacked—who was guilty of the human flesh trade.

"Because this lad was one of the servants in a noble family's household, before he fell ill. He saw his lord as something of a father figure, so I find I get better results when I refer to myself as his master. It seems to calm him down more quickly."

He lifted Jase into his arms when the doll's knees began to buckle from the strain of his hunger. "Now if you'll all excuse me, I need to see to my patient. I apologize deeply for this incident, and I vow to keep him confined to our booth or at my immediate side, for the duration of our journey."

One of the train's security personnel stepped forward, having come just in time to witness the end of the conversation. "I'm terribly sorry sir, but I'm afraid you and your companion will have to disembark from this train at the next stop. That's been two incidents so far. We can't have a threat to other passengers remaining on board, no matter what the circumstances are."

Undertaker pursed his lips and he nearly told the man that he'd better toss the blonde woman too then, but they didn't need another scene. "Fair enough."

"That's hardly fair. The boy is sick! What if this doctor is trying to get him to a better place to be treated and cured? You are delaying their journey." One of the onlookers—an older woman who looked as if she could be a grandmother—pressed, "And the only other incident I know of is seeing the poor thing pass out in the Dinning cart yesterday. That is hardly excuse for alarm when passengers' safety is concerned. Why not give him one last chance? The good Doctor says he'll keep a closer eye on the poor dear."

Undertaker smiled at the woman. "Thank you, my dear. Your generous nature is the very milk of human kindness."

The security guard looked uncomfortable as some of the other people voiced soft agreement with the old lady. Hesitant at first, they soon began to argue in Jase's favor—except of course for the women he'd attacked, her companion and the man he'd thrown across the car.

"All right now, that's enough," called the security guard. He looked up at Undertaker warily, then at the young man in his arms. "Doctor, I don't want to be the cause of this young man's treatment being delayed, but we can't have the other passengers endangered for the sake of one boy."

"I understand," assured the reaper, "and I swear to you, I won't allow any further disturbances, if you'll just allow us to remain on board for the rest of our journey. It really isn't his fault; it's mine. I won't make the mistake of letting him out of my sight again."

Jase groaned, and Undertaker shifted him in his arms. The guard looked at the doll and sighed. "I've got a son around his age at home. All right then; you can stay. I give you fair warning though; one more incident and it's out of my hands."

"Of course," agreed the reaper. "Thank you."

He gave the elderly woman that stuck up for them a charming smile and a nod, and then he carried Jase back into the booth they shared. He laid him down on the bunk again, and he took a moment to reinforce his command that he not harm anyone. Once that was done, the retired Shinigami went to his own bunk and plopped down with a sigh.

For someone he was trying not to care about, Jase managed to provoke the most inconvenient protective urges in him.

The Doll groaned and slowly sat up at he came to his mind once more, he blinked, looking around, feeling the dryness of his mouth as he swallowed. "Did…I hurt anyone..?" he asked, turning his somber attention onto the reaper.

Undertaker was rubbing the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger, and he shook his head. "Not seriously, no. You gave a slave trader a good scratch, but she'll be all right."

For once, he wasn't smiling as he looked at the doll. "You ran out in a huff again before I could re-apply your conditioning. You were fortunate this time. Now, I know this is more my fault than yours. I should have reinforced your compulsion the moment we woke up, so that bit is on _my_ head, not yours. Having said that, I've got to put my boot down."

Undertaker combed his bangs back again so that Jase could look into his eyes and see how uncommonly serious he was. "No more storming away from me like a child, whenever you suffer a moral breakdown or get tired of my sense of humor. If you've got to be a brat about it, I'd rather you plug your ears and go: 'la, la, la' than run out on me again and lock yourself in a bathroom or try to eat the first morally corrupted wanker you see. Do you understand, Jase?"

Jase sank where he sat in his damp bed, "I—I'm sorry…I needed the time to think…I hadn't realized…that I'd attack someone…I thought you reapplied my forced control…"

"I should have," answered the reaper. "After you passed out in the dining car, I knew it needed to be done. To tell you honestly though, I was more concerned with getting you cooled off than I was for the safety of any humans. You didn't exactly give me the chance to remedy that, after we woke up from our little nap."

"I'm sorry…" he whispered again, "You just…no one has ever been able to get on my nerves as much as you do…and waking up as we did…I was flustered to begin with—I wasn't thinking."

Undertaker sighed, unreasonably wounded by the admission. "I get on your nerves that bad, do I? And here I thought you were just trying not to encourage me."

Feeling resentful, the ancient reaper hopped off of his bed and pulled his trunk out from under it. He opened it up, selected a book and replaced the trunk back underneath the bed. He dropped the book on the bed and he bent over to snatch up Jase's forgotten canteen of water.

"I'm going to refill this now, and I'm locking you in because I swore not to let you out of the booth without my supervision. When I get back, I'm going to lie down and read, and I promise you won't hear a bloody peep from me again unless it's necessary."

He knew he was being the childish one now, but Undertaker was so tired of extending his hand to the living only to have it slapped away, time after time. The dead were truly the only ones that understood him. He needed to stop seeing Jase as a potential friend or lover, despite his previous declarations of friendship. He was just a doll...his precious creation that could lead to further breakthroughs.

Undertaker left the booth with the canteen in hand, locking the door behind him with his key.

Scowling, Jase almost picked up the pillow from his bed and threw it at the sliding cabin door, but he restrained himself, getting up and pulling everything from his bed so that he could flip the mattress and avoid having to sit in a wet spot all day if he was going to be locked away the entire ride like a—pet. Stupid reaper. Why was he even trying to be friends with the cold old man? He had done this to him…turned him into a Bizarre Doll, stole away his death…and for what? Research? To make more intelligent flesh-eating monsters? Jase was merely an object, now. A tool. He wasn't anything special, the reaper just pretended he was, and why? To play with his emotions? To tempt him to fall deep into sin? To not care what he does so that he, too, could be a useful monster? A killer?

He felt as if he were Eve in the garden, his new nature was the forbidden fruit, and Undertaker—Undertaker was the serpent.

Jase would leave, if he weren't so dependant on having his control manipulated so that he wouldn't attack people. He was trapped in a cage without bars, and as much as he wished he could escape and return to a normal life…he wouldn't—couldn't. Because the fact was all too obvious. He was a monster, and he couldn't be trusted around people.

He flopped over onto his bed once he put his carving set away as he'd found it had fallen to the floor under his bunk, and clutched at his chest, a strange but familiar aching starting in his heart. It was all too similar to when the woman he loved had told him she'd be wed to another…but it couldn't be the same! This situation was different! He…he had to only be yearning for his human life…

* * *

 

"Leaving his free will was the first bloody mistake," muttered Undertaker under his breath as he waited for the serving girl to fill the canteen. It was difficult to see Jase as an experiment, when the intransigent little bugger kept saying and doing things to remind him that he really was much more than a flesh automation.

The ancient sighed, his pale lashes fluttering as he lowered his eyes in thought. He should be above this...whatever it was he was feeling. He had the uncomfortable suspicion that he was actually experience that dreadful thing known as pinning. He _hungered_ for Jase. Even when their personalities clashed, he found the doll's company infinitely more enjoyable than any other living thing or even dead thing. He was never quite sure what he was going to do next, or how he would react.

At first, he'd thought of it as a game...part of his experiment. He wondered how long it would take for him to seduce such a creature, and he stood to gain physical pleasure out of his efforts, if he succeeded. Somewhere along the line, his courtship became sincere and he began to care more about making Jase happy than endearing him to him.

And here he was, acting like a child himself. Pouting. Sulking.

"Pining," he grumbled, and a rueful smile curved his mouth. And now it was too late to go back. Undertaker was ruined. Silence had lost it's value with him when he talked to the dead…he wanted that interaction…a response. " _Touché, mon petit ami_. You've managed to do to me what none others have."

A distasteful frown curved his lips, as soon as the words left his mouth. A young man passed by and he gave Undertaker a little nod of respect, evidently having heard that he was a doctor. The reaper nodded back absently and forced the frown off of his face, and he offered a smile to the serving girl when she returned with the filled canteen.

"Ah, thank you very much, my dear. I'm afraid I'll be pestering you for more later in the day, as my patient suffers terrible thirst as a side effect of his medications."

She smiled up at him, blushing with maidenly admiration for his charming smile, even though she was clearly just as intimidated by him as most other humans. "I will bring a pitcher of water with each of your meals from now on, if you're sincerely going to dine in your booth, from now on."

"I think it's for the best that my companion and I keep to ourselves as much as possible," he answered, "and thank you, that would be lovely."

He took the canteen from her, kissed the top of her hand and returned to the passenger car with his booth.

He found Jase lying curled up on the bed with his hand pressed against his chest, and concern immediately replaced his childish resentment, for the moment. He went to his side and squatted there, searching his face. His eyes were shut, and there were traces of tears on his face. It was difficult to tell if the pain in his expression was physical or emotional.

_'You were too harsh with him, old chap. You left him with feelings to go along with the free will, and he's a sensitive dollie.'_

The childish part of him wanted to just leave it be, because in his mind, all he'd done was tease him a bit and Jase had been deliberately hurtful. The adult in him that had been around since creation reminded himself that his teasing might have been hurtful to the doll.

Conflicted, Undertaker reached out to stroke his hair. "Are you in pain?" He reckoned it counted as a necessary question.

Jase opened his eyes, his blindfold having been removed while he cleaned up his bunk and letting his eyes meet Undertaker's gaze. He didn't want to answer—he wanted to ignore the reaper, let him know he's won… he has himself a stupid doll he could do anything with regardless of Jase's own thoughts or feelings. But that, too, would be childish, and he did always hate it when he was often confused with being a choir boy rather than a priest when he was human, why act like a child when he was an adult and likes to be treated as such? After a moment's pause for these thoughts to go through his head, he parted his lips and glanced away, "…Not Physically, no. Just…realizing the truth in things."

He shouldn't keep talking to him. He needed to stay firm with his dollie and teach him that he wasn't some pushover that would melt the minute those pretty blue eyes looked at him so tearfully and...and...

"Bugger." Undertaker heaved a deep sigh. He was at the mercy of something stronger than lust, and he knew it. "Why don't you share, pet? We may have opposing ideas of that truth. I think it's time we both get on the same page."

He offered the canteen to him, and he suffered a strange ache inside at the sight of his unhappiness, so clear on his handsome young face.

The doll sat up and took the canteen, opening it and drinking to help quench that undying thirst he lived with. He then closed it and set it aside, looking at the reaper straight-on, "I'm just a doll." He stated bluntly, "Just your play thing and experiment. An object that you have only been kind to in letting me think I was more than that. But if I leave you, I won't be an object—but a monster, having no leash to control me. I'd attack like all the Dolls before me. I promised you I wouldn't leave—because I didn't wish to be that monster. And I still don't. But you…don't have to pretend I'm something I'm not. Free will…" The doll gave a small, half-hearted laugh, "I don't even have free will from myself."

Undertaker thought about what he'd said. This was his greatest test. He should agree with the boy now, and banish these feelings he had for him before they interfered with his common sense. He had the Reaper Dispatch after him, he had more bizarre dolls to make for his associates, and he still had so much to discover about life and death. Now wasn't the time to allow himself to fall in love for the first time, much less with one of his own creations.

The cold practicality of his thoughts evidently had no dominion over his mouth or his heart, however. When he parted his lips to speak, his words completely contradicted his logical thoughts.

"I see. Well, I have to disagree with you."

When Jase's swirled blue eyes met his in confusion, Undertaker watched with amazement as his own hand reached out to stroke the soft brown locks of hair away from the doll's forehead. He traced the thin scar tissue he found there, forever marking Jase as an experiment.

"I've never put as much effort into bringing a genuine smile to a face, as I have with you," confessed Undertaker. "I've never kept anyone living around for longer than necessary, because I find their incessant chatter tiresome, petty or preachy."

He shrugged. "You have your moments like anyone else, but I find you have things of value to say, more often than not. You're interesting to me, and not just because of your physiology. I've tried to tell you this before, but perhaps I didn't sincerely believe it. Honestly, I thought you only extended the hand of friendship to me because you felt you had no choice. It's the logical thing to do, isn't it? Try to make the best of a bad situation. That's how we all survive, and it's universal."

Undertaker heaved a sigh and pulled his hand away, looking down. He tugged his hat off and tossed it absently onto his bed, running his fingers through his hair. He felt a headache coming on, because he was fighting an inner battle. Should he tell him? How could he declare feelings he wasn't even sure of, himself?

"I'm not sure what I'm trying to say," murmured the reaper, "except that my old heart won't let me see you as just a doll, or just an experiment. My mind wants me to, surely, but it's not happening."

He lifted his head and looked at Jase through the partial concealment of his bangs. "I don't know if it's love. I've got no basis for comparison. All I know is I wouldn't care this much, if you were just a 'thing' to me. At least try to take some comfort in that, even if you despise me for what I did to you."

"I don't despise you…" Jase's voice cut in, in a low tone, "Undertaker, even if it was for…scientific reasons…just to see what would happen or if you could…you saved my life—changed it forever, yes, but you did what I had always thought angels would do." He took a deep breath and looked down, his fingers running over the chain of his pocket watch, feeling the wooden beads from his rosary, "You are Death, and they are angels, yet they gave me death for trying to follow Heaven's teachings…and you saved me and brought me back. You switched places with those heavenly messengers—even if it was for a second. And you continue to take care of me. You get me water when I need it, cool me off when the fire within me grows too great—you stop me from killing people when my mind goes as empty as a child's toy. You are more than my master and creator…you are my guardian angel. You came to me when even God had forsaken me—I could never hate you for that."

Somewhere during his speech, tears started to slide down his pale cheeks again, and he brushed them aside, "If you hadn't done what you had…where would I be? Just another soul in that 'library' you had spoken of? Awaiting judgment? Where would I be sent? Hell? Heaven? Both are equally unpleasant to me at this point. You kept me on Earth, in the land of the living."

Undertaker was stunned speechless for a moment. He had to sincerely turn those words over in his mind and examine them closely, before he could find the wit to speak again. He reached out to wipe the tears from Jase's cheeks with his thumbs, tilting his head. He wanted to kiss him, but he didn't dare try...not right now.

"Can't say anyone's ever compared me to a guardian angel before, love."

Was that his voice, so oddly husky and hesitant? Why were his eyes burning? His vision started to blur and he frowned and hastily reached beneath his bangs to wipe away the moisture that had gathered. He pulled his hand away and stared at his fingertips, perplexed. He'd shed a tear of sadness here and there, when he felt sorrow for a mortal in his earliest years of reaping, or when he lost a pet. Most of the time his tears were provoked by mirth. He couldn't explain why his eyes were watering now, or why his throat felt so tight. It wasn't sadness...

"I think...I may be getting ill," said the reaper uncertainly. Disease was so very uncommon amongst his kind, though, and he could think of nothing that could account for this.

"You…never saved a life before like you had me, either" Jase pointed out, "You collected souls—and brought the dead back to a mindless—something. It's not really a life my brothers lead…I'm the first you have saved…" Jase paused and lay his hand over Undertaker's, "You keep people at a distance…and you intimidate them, but you kept me close enough where I could see the real you. And yes, you grate on my nerves sometimes—but I'm sure I do the same. We aren't humans—but we are not that far off—we aren't perfect….and now I feel like I'm preaching again…not even at the altar or in a confessional…Sorry…I got used to long-winded speeches working as a man of the cloth…even on a personal level it's a habit…"

Undertaker smiled, shaking his head. "No, you're sharing your thoughts, and that isn't a bad thing at all. Perhaps you're right. I've spent what feels like an eternity ferrying souls to the afterlife, from doing so literally to collecting their life's deeds in the form of records. My dealings have always been with the dead, even when I retired."

He looked at the hand lying on top of his, and he sighed and held it gently. "If I could, I would erase both our memories of how we came to know each other. I would like to sit down and chat with you as something other than Death, Jase. I would like you to chat with me as something other than a doll, too."

The cautionary part of him begged Undertaker to stop talking. He was revealing far, far too much to his companion, but he didn't know how to stop. The dead kept his secrets...it was safe to talk to them, because they had no voice to share them. He bowed his head again, struggling with himself. Where was the laughter? He couldn't find it. All he had at this moment was an almost desperate need to connect with this creature, this glorious, unique being that he had somehow dragged from the jaws of death and was still trying to understand.

"We can't help what we are…it doesn't mean that is who we are." The Doll pointed out.

Undertaker found that to be a very profound observation. He smiled at him, and he covered Jase's hand with both of his, holding it between them. So small, his hand was, but calloused with the labor of his art and strong in its own right.

"I've always bore the name of what I am," he murmured. The train shifted a little on the tracks and he balanced himself to compensate. He released Jase's hand and he sat down next to him on the bunk, dragging his hair out of his eyes with his fingers. "I was simply Death, when I was with the organization. Now they refer to me as the 'Legendary Death'—which I find ironically funny, since they're doing their best to track me down and imprison me. So much for adulation."

He sighed and looked at his companion. "I named myself what I chose to become, after that. Undertaker. I went from being the reaper of souls to a manager of the dead." He looked at his pale hands and he absently curled his fingers, wondering _who_ he was, beneath the Legendary Death and the Undertaker.

Jase took his hand again, "Just because you are called 'Death', doesn't make you so…remember…you are not 'death' to me…you have proven you are more than that."

Undertaker looked at the hand holding his. The difference in pigment was startling, though Jase was fair-skinned, himself. "If I accept that I'm not just Death to you, would you accept that you aren't just a doll to me?"

The Frenchman nodded, "But…could you do me a favor? When you lock the door…can you do it to keep others that may trigger me out, rather than keep me in? I don't want to feel caged…."

Undertaker chuckled without humor. "I put my foot in my mouth with that, didn't I?" He brought Jase's hand to his cheek, and he looked into his eyes. "To be totally honest with you, that was my intention in the first place. I was being childish and resentful. Seems even a fossil like myself is capable of such nonsense."

He turned his head to impulsively kiss Jase's palm, and he told his cold practicality to bugger off. He was caught up in the moment, and he'd never had one quite like _this_ before, with anyone.

"When you attacked that woman in the hallway, I didn't give a toss whether she lived or died. My only concern was for you, Jase. I would have reaped them all, if any one of those humans had tried to lay a harmful finger on you."

He realized what he'd just said and he visibly flinched, releasing the doll's hand and looking away. "That was...my goodness, did all of that just come from me?"

"I…I know what you meant by that, Undertaker…but I do hope you wouldn't ever act on such impulses…if that woman was the only one I attacked, then the others can be assumed to be innocent, right?"

Undertaker shrugged. "Nobody in this world is truly 'innocent', but the onlookers weren't guilty of anything too terribly sinful. A little old lady even stuck up for you."

He smiled at the memory. "I think I should like to send her a care package. She's a surprisingly hardy little thing. She'll outlive her own daughter."

"I'd like to thank her as well…" Jase said with a small smile.

"Then perhaps we can find her again, before our journey is over," suggested Undertaker. "I'm sure she'd like to hear you thank her yourself."

He looked down again, suddenly troubled. The old lady had a name. Jase had a name. All humans had names of their own...even slaves, if their masters permitted it. The other reapers all had individual names. He, on the other hand, had no name, other than the simple name of what he was, given to him upon his creation, and the name of what he chose to do when he retired. It had never bothered him before, but it did now. He was more than a title.

"Jase, I think I would like you to name me."

"Name you? As a parent would a child?" Jase asked, "You want me to?"

"People are given names by those who love them," answered the reaper. "Traditionally at birth. I don't know if you could ever love me, since I hardly understand what love means. Still, I've never had a real name, before; not as you know them."

He raised his eyes to the Frenchman again, and he smiled softly. "It seems like a foolish thing to ask. Perhaps it is, but I would like to know that at least one person in this world knows me by a name other than 'Death' or 'Undertaker'. It can be _your_ name for me, Jase. Consider it your brand on your master."

He smirked a little at the end, but his eyes remained sincere.

Jase nodded, leaning back against the wall and looking into the distance, though the small cabin restricted what he wasn't really looking at. He took a deep breath through his nose as he thought about a name. So many didn't seem to fit the reaper—certainly not any modern names…biblical also seemed not to fit. However, he wasn't an uneducated man of the bible. He hadn't followed _as_ blindly as some. He had researched into other cultures and religions as well, knowing he could have been sent to a non-Christian world to spread the word of God. He had wanted to understand where others were coming from…and one rather old name from those studies seemed to reach out to him after a long moment dwelling on different possibilities…

"Chronus."

Undertaker repeated the name softly, tasting it on his tongue. His lips curved into a crooked smile of irony. God of time, god of death, what was the difference? Both eventually put an end to human life, but this time...ah, this time he'd been given the name by someone that saw something besides death, when they looked at him. It was refreshing and liberating, and he smiled wider and nodded.

"Chronus, it is. I think I like that." It was Jase's name for him, somewhat like a pet name, but much more powerful. Undertaker's own connection to the doll made it so, and he could feel it. "Use that name when you're in true danger, or whenever you believe I am. It's a link to me; not nearly as powerful as a Faustian brand, but it will allow you to call to me."

There was a knock at the door, and a familiar female voice called out. "Doctor, I've brought you the lunch you requested!"

"Ah," sighed the reaper, suddenly remembering how bloody hungry he was. He never got the chance to eat the evening before, or this morning. He got to his feet and opened the door, smiling at the young lady bearing the food cart.

"You are a very welcome sight, my dear," he greeted, taking her hand to place a kiss on the top of it. "Did you bring water for my companion?"

"Yes sir," she answered, blushing. She held the sterling silver pitcher up. "If you don't need it just yet, I can leave it here with the tray. Are you _certain_ this will be enough food for the both of you?"

Undertaker mentally winced. He'd forgotten to order a little more food than he needed, to avoid rousing suspicion. "My patient hasn't been able to keep much down," he fabricated, "hence the request for water. I share a few nibbles from my plate with him for now, until he can eat more without getting sick."

"Poor thing," she sighed, glancing past him to Jase. She reached out timidly to place a delicate hand on Undertaker's arm, and her hazel eyes lit up with intrigue. "If you need me for _anything_ else, sir, just ask for Vanessa."

Undertaker grinned at her, catching on. He couldn't even imagine having anyone except for Jase in his bed right now, but it was nice to know he had options. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, love."

Jase pursed his lips, having overheard the conversation. The young woman's offer hadn't escaped his notice, but really, it was her tone that made him jump to a conclusion, and he could be reading far too much into it, so he said nothing. Though it did bother him somewhere in the back of his mind, and he didn't quite know why.

Undertaker wheeled his dinner tray in with the pitcher and he sighed as he sat down and lifted the cover to breath in the aroma of shepherd's pie. He poured a glass of water for himself, and he looked at his companion. It would be rude of him to eat in front of him, without at least offering. That was one thing about Jase's condition that still bothered him—the uncommon guilt he felt every time he savored a meal in his presence.

"I know you don't have a need for food anymore, but would you like some?"

Jase shook his head, "You know I can't enjoy it…I can only taste blood and flesh…" he said sadly. This was the cruelest part of his new life—not even being able to savor the flavor of his favorite foods.

"Yes, I know." Undertaker felt another rare stirring of pity for him. "We'll continue to monitor your condition, love. Maybe some day, I'll find a solution."

He thought about the problem as he began to eat. He would honestly like it if he could do that for him, but he suspected that the gratification he got from eating the flesh of the wicked was closely linked to the holy spark inside of him, and that had the effect of dulling his sense of taste for everything else. It was like Hell. Forever thirsty, food turning to ash in his mouth—figuratively speaking—Jase fit the description of the eternally damned...

...And Undertaker made him that way.

No matter that the doll claimed not to hate him for it. The more he watched Jase suffer, the more Undertaker began to wish he'd just left him to die when he found him, or performed a mercy killing to end his suffering.

It was far too late for that now, though. He very much doubted he could raise his scythe against him, and even if he could, there was no guarantee that it would free the doll's soul. The tampering that Undertaker had already done to his cinematic records might prevent his spirit from ever escaping into the afterlife, without aggressive intervention.

The reaper sighed, and suddenly the food didn't taste so good to him, either.

As the reaper ate, Jase crawled over to the end of his bed and opened the chest resting just off it's edge and dug through it for one of his books to study. He sighed and sat back, opening it to the chapter he was working on learning. He did enjoy learning medical things, though he did still have problems with the terms. Grabbing the pitcher of water, he filled a glass and sipped it as he read.

Undertaker watched him covertly as he finished his meal, and he rolled the dining cart back out the door and locked it when he was finished. He checked his pocket watch as he sat down on his bunk, and he mentally reviewed their location and destination.

"We've only got to put up with these cramped quarters for a couple of days," he said consolingly to the doll. "After that, we'll have a place out in the contryside to stay for a while, and you'll have a lot more freedom to move around. I think if this experience has taught me anything, it's that trains aren't an ideal method of travel for the likes of us."

He smirked. "We'll definitely be taking our own carriage out of Germany and into France. It won't be luxurious and we'll have to take frequent stops along the way to eat, sleep and...er...relieve ourselves, but we'll get there eventually. I'll be sure and have everything from the Düsseldorf home transported by train, so we'll only have our trunks to worry about along the way."

"Mhh." Jade nodded and finished the paragraph before looking up at Undertaker, "Safer for others, at least. And that's what matters."

Undertaker chose not to comment on that. He looked at the medical journal Jase was reading, and he blew a soft whistle. He almost remarked on his surprise that the doll was reading such an advanced book with his current level of training, and he thought about asking if he wanted some help. They weren't officially having lessons on the train though, and he felt he'd already patronized the little Frenchman enough for the day. If Jase wanted to challenge himself, then so be it. Undertaker spared a grin at him, before stretching out on his stomach to resume reading his choice of literature.

As he picked up where he left off on _Macbeth_ , he couldn't help but feel a surge of pride for his dollie that had nothing to do with paternal feelings.

* * *

To be continued...


	9. Chapter 9

_We arrived in Düsseldorf two days later, and there were no further incidents on the train. We played it cautiously and we waited until all of the other passengers had disembarked, before leaving the train. It substantially lessened the chances of Jase getting too close to any naughty birds and flipping his lid on me. The carriage was already waiting to take us to our new, temporary home in the hills outside of town. I must give the Germans credit; they are an efficient and industrious people. Prompt, quick minded and not prone to useless chatter, I find them very interesting to talk to—though I'm only slightly more fluent in their tongue than I am in French._

_We sent Father O'Reilly an anonymous care package with Jase's carving and some good, German shortbread cookies (not bone-shaped, unfortunately). I also discovered the name of the little old lady who defended us when they wanted to kick Jase and I off the train, and once I deduced her location in Belgium, we sent a small care package of sweets to her, as well as another lovely, small carving of a rose by Jase._

_I think that Jase and I have established a new rapport of mutual respect—which I admit astounds me, just a bit. I'm slowly growing used to companionship with something other than a bat, and it can be both a blessing and a frustration. He and I do clash at times, but I suppose such a thing is normal, after all. I can be a ghastly bastard in the mornings, and he isn't the world's fluffiest dollie when he wakes up, either. Jase sleeps in a separate room from mine, on a small single bed. I have a double bed in the master bedroom, but I still prefer my coffin, when I sleep alone._

_The nights are lonely, I admit. Indeed, that one encounter on the train when my dollie and I fell asleep in each other's arms is the only close contact I've had like that for a very long time. Holding someone you're genuinely fond of isn't the same as satisfying baser urges with a person you find physically attractive. I still harbor a slim hope that my dollie might come to see me as a lover some day, but as I told him before; I leave it up to him to decide that._

_In the meantime, I keep myself busy with the creation of new dollies for my friends here in Germany. I have to stay deep undercover, avoiding populated towns as much as I can and disguising myself when I do need to go to town for anything. I mostly have things delivered to me—especially the bodies that I'm to turn into bizarre dolls for my associates. Viscount Druitt funds quite a bit of it still, of course. I'm amazed the crafty bugger hasn't been taken in by the authorities yet, to be honest, but that's nobility for you...they throw money at people to make their troubles vanish._

_Oh, how I wish I could still trade in laughs. I still believe that money is the devil's toilet paper, and every time you touch it, you're getting his shit all over your hands. It's a necessary evil, though. We can't stay in one place to try our hands at farming, and while I know I could hunt for meat if I need to, there's still the matter of other basic necessities._

_My darling dollie doesn't approve of my business arrangement at all, of course, but I know he's curious. As days pass into weeks, I can see his growing desire to "meet" the undead ones and compare himself to them. I would rather he didn't do that, so I've avoided taking him to see the finished products when I go each week to inspect the newly awakened dollies._

_But perhaps seeing one of them in their primitive, mindless state will finally convince Jase that he truly is more than "just a doll", and the only things he really shares with them is the hunger and altered eyes. I will think on it._

* * *

Jase closed his eyes behind his blindfold as he sat in the dimming evening light out on the porch. It, of course, was cold as it was Winter, spring not yet showing signs of her coming, though it could happen at any day. But Jase couldn't feel the cold. And sitting among the snowy outside world did help his need to keep his body temperature down.

He'd finished his studies for the day, and he had found Undertaker busy with his journal again, though it was almost dinner, in which case, he liked to make himself scarce while the reaper ate, so a break upon the porch was his best option.

Undertaker lit the potbelly stove and he set out the steaks. Ordinarily, he never bothered trying to cook for his dollie, but he thought it was time for a bit of experimentation. The nature of the bizarre dolls was to crave fresh, bloody meat. They usually went after humans because they had the souls that the dolls themselves were missing, but he'd never tested to see if raw or rare animal meat would do the trick.

He started to drop both steaks into the pan, but he changed his mind and left Jase's on the stoneware plate. Steak tartare was a popular dish in France, after all. Seasoning it would do no good, but he could chop it up for him, using the blood as the sauce. He had a grinder, but Undertaker suspected that Jase would get more satisfaction out of biting into and chewing up whole pieces. He squeezed out his own steak on top of it, leaving as much blood as possible before dropping the meat into the pan. While that was frying up, he checked the potatoes in the oven and he nodded in satisfaction, before turning his attention to Jase's steak.

He began to cut it into small chunks, humming _"Danse Macabre"_ as he went.

The doll sighed once it started getting too dark, and the sound of wolves could be heard in the distance. He got up and headed in, hoping Undertaker was finished with his meal.

Undertaker smiled at his companion when Jase returned inside and stood over the little dining table, wearing a perplexed frown on his fair face. He'd tugged his blindfold down around his neck, now that the sun was going down, and the light of the candle flickering on the dinner table wasn't bright enough to hurt his eyes.

"Have a seat, love," offered the reaper with a nod at the dining table. "I made it special, just for you."

Undertaker sat down to his own plate of food, and he could tell by the confusion on Jase's face that the doll didn't understand what he was looking at. "It's a broken down version of steak tartare," explained Undertaker. "We've never tried giving you undercooked or raw, bloody meat before. I would like you to try it."

When Jase sat down and looked uncertainly at the meal, Undertaker impulsively reached across the table to lay his hand over his. "Come on, then...do it for your Chronus. Try it, just this once. It's only steak, my dear."

Jase continued to look at the plate of food. Though it was greatly undercooked from the way he'd always had his meat as a human, it did look like real food…delicious and warm—inviting.

He picked up his fork and brought a bite to his lips, hesitating as he didn't want to get his hopes up, he didn't want to put Undertaker's work to waste…but he also did not wish to insult the reaper by not trying it at all. "Don't…be disappointed if I still can not taste it." He cautioned before slipping the morsel into his mouth and letting it sit upon his tongue a moment before chewing.

His eyes widened. It wasn't a strong flavor—but it was there. That sweet, savory flavor of steak. He swallowed and tried a second bite, just to ensure it hadn't been his over-hopeful imagination—it hadn't been. Again, he could _taste_ the flavor of the tartare. Tears gathered in his eyes as he looked down at his plate again, "I can taste it…" he whispered and then looked up at Undertaker, "It's not strong, but I can _taste_ it."

Undertaker beamed as a feeling of immense satisfaction—and perhaps a bit of relief—washed over him. "Fancy that. All this time, and a rare steak could have given you some relief! I should sit in the corner wearing a 'Dunce' hat for failing to think of that."

Seeing how quickly Jase had started to eat, Undertaker considered getting another steak out of the icehouse to thaw. "You know, I don't want to give you false hope, but there is a chance this could help curb your natural flesh cravings. This could be the first step to you learning to control it yourself, without the need of my 'leash'."

"You think so?" Jase asked with a hint of hope in his tone. He couldn't deny he did wish he needn't rely so much on said 'leash'. He'd be a much greater help to their life if he didn't need Undertaker to baby-sit him all the time. He'd be able to go into town alone to do any errands that needed to be done, rather than having to wait for the reaper to be free for the trip himself.

"It's possible," answered the reaper. "Perhaps we could test the theory tomorrow, if you'd like. You have new carvings to put up for sale at the shop, don't you? I'll take you in to do that, when I go to inspect my latest subjects. I'll stop you if it seems you're going to attack anyone."

Jase swallowed nervously and nodded, "Stay close—just in case."

"Absolutely," promised Undertaker. "Just try not to be too discouraged, if we don't see immediate results. Any progress is better than none."

He took a bite of his own steak and he watched as Jase happily devoured his. Though demonstrating a sharp appetite, the Frenchman ate with graceful manners, wiping his mouth between bites with the dark napkin provided for him.

Undertaker smiled again. Even if the Jase couldn't control his cannibal urges, at least they had found something he could enjoy eating.

Jase left each bite linger on his tongue to savor the flavor. He couldn't remember a better meal than the one he was enjoying at the moment. A smile lingered upon his lips until long after he finished his last bite and turned his gaze upon his companion, "Thank you, Chronus, my compliments."

Undertaker smiled back at him. "You are quite welcome, my dear. We can try other meats as well, so that you can have a variety. Lamb and venison may go well on your pallet, too."

He lowered his gaze in thought. "Tomorrow we'll go into town to the consignment shop, and I won't apply your compulsion unless you appear to be losing control. I'll defrost another steak overnight for you to have in the morning, before we leave."

The doll nodded, "I'd like to try it." He agreed eagerly. It was a risk, but if he could stay in control, it was for the best.

"Then it's settled," said Undertaker happily. "Just keep a level head and remember that this could be a hit or a miss."

He hoped to Hades he was right, and not just setting up Jase for disappointment. As he cleared the table and cleaned up the dishes, he considered what to do about the other dilemma he faced. How would Jase react to the other dollies, if he took him with for his inspection.

Jase stood up and cleaned off the table, "I fear it won't help…but I am hopeful."

Undertaker gave the doll one of his usual, bright smiles as he joined him in the kitchen, but inwardly, he was plotting his course of action should the day go sour.

' _My Jase, I will do whatever I can for you, even if you can never allow me to love you as I would like to.'_

The direction of his own thoughts startled him, as did the passion he felt. He froze in place and he stared at his companion accusingly, his lips aching to kiss him.

Jase moved closer, taking a cloth and wetting it before catching the look on the reaper's face. "What is it? You suddenly look upset…"

"Do I?"

Undertaker smiled a little wistfully. Perhaps Karma was paying him back for making fun of people that fell so hopelessly in love, they spent their spare time pining for the object of their affection.

He could demand a kiss from Jase, he supposed...but it wouldn't be real. He sighed and he reached out to him, caressing his sculpted, attractive features with his nails.

"You've done me an evil, my dear, though I know it wasn't orchestrated on purpose."

"I…I have?" Jase looked up at him in confusion, "Whatever have I done?" he bit his lip, racking his mind for any sin he'd ever done to upset his companion.

Every shred of common sense warned Undertaker to shut his gob and keep it shut, but as he traced his companion's jawline, he seemed to lose the ability to hold his tongue.

"I find myself pining, like some fool mortal. Well done, chap."

Unable to resist, The reaper lowered his mouth to the doll's, and he kissed him gently on the lips. He didn't allow the kiss to linger for long; because he knew Jase would emotionally flog himself as punishment if it lasted long enough for him to enjoy it. Undertaker was also uncertain that he would be able to stop, if he let it get too heated.

_'Face it, old chap: You're completely smitten with him, and you're a romantic, at heart.'_

Jase's eyes widened again, but before he could truly react, it was over, and he looked down, "I've become your temptation? Your forbidden fruit?" he husked out on a whisper, "Do you…truly love me that much…that you grow upset at not being able to have such a sinful thing with me..?"

Undertaker tried to choose his next words carefully. Subtlety had never been his strongpoint, and he was still learning how to use it, with Jase.

"What you think of as 'sinful', I think of as love." He winced, wishing he'd just said "normal", instead of dragging the "L" word into it. "But you've nothing to worry about, Jase. I swore I'd never force you, and I meant it."

"I know you won't I just…Love between two men is to be platonic. Brothers, friends…family…never romantic. They say anything more is the work of the devil himself, yet, these feelings…they contradict that…they are confusing…and you come from a kind that are unaffected by sins such as that…I have a hard time understanding that."

Hearing him admit to having those feelings gave Undertaker a little thrill. Though he was already certain that Jase shared his attraction, his admitting it himself was the first step in eventually acting on them.

"Let me ask you something, love. Is God fallible?"

"God is perfect…or…so we have been taught…now I'm not so sure."

His response wasn't quite what Undertaker expected, but he could still work with it.

"Assuming for a moment that God _is_ perfect, then why would he create people with such a sinful flaw? If God is offended by homosexuality as your church teaches, wouldn't he deign not to create homosexuals or bisexual people at all? If we assume that God isn't as perfect as you were taught, then he's rather like a cruel child, telling his creations not to act on feelings he put there in the first place."

Undertaker caressed Jase's face again, and he smiled. "Or could it be that the rules against lying with other men were just put there not by the will of God himself, but by some of his followers using religion to discourage behavior that they themselves disapprove of?"

"But…What if it wasn't God…but Lucifer? He had the Snake tempt Eve with the forbidden fruit…he created sin, and…" He trailed off, realizing how—brainwashed his words seemed…and remembering his own words from years before—before he'd joined the church, even as a member of the congregation. His mother had died when he was too young to remember her—and his father was not a man who had made it a point to go each day of the Sabbath. He found it much better getting drunk off ale rather than sitting through a service for only a small sip of wine. So Jase hadn't grown up in the church. When he had left his father…and run away…he had been taken in by a church on a cold, stormy evening, and they started to teach him the ways of Christ. But he had been skeptical. Challenging things, asking questions…and one of his own questions at the time had been;

' _But did Satan give us sin…or did he give us free will? It sounds to me he set us free of chains we hadn't known had held us back—he saved us._ '

How had he forgotten those thoughts? They still made sense to him—even now after becoming a man of the cloth.

Undertaker could practically hear the thoughts churning around in that bright mind of his. Sensing that he was making some progress, he decided to add another question to the list.

"Tell me something, Jase. When I kiss you, does it _feel_ corruptive, or sinful? Do you think of me as your garden serpent, darling?"

"No—yes—I don't…I'm not sure anymore…I did think you the serpent once…tempting me…but you say I was tempting you…That would make us both the serpent…"

"Hmm, a pair of serpents entwined together." The reaper grinned at his companion, finding his flustered response charming. He knew he probably shouldn't, but the temptation was too strong.

Undertaker put his arms around the young man, and he drew him close. "Allow me to give you another demonstration to consider."

He then kissed Jase again, and this time, he didn't hold back. His tongue eased past the surprised doll's parted lips, to stroke and glide against his.

The Doll gave a small gasp. The kiss, once again, pulling him into that temptation he had felt the first time the reaper had kissed him back in London. His eyes closing, his heart pounding, and his arms sliding up with a mind of their own, his hands slipping along the man's sides, over his chest, along his shoulders, and settling behind his neck entangled in long silver hair that the man left loose around his tall thin form. Still, part of his mind screamed at him…but that voice of 'reason' was getting further away as his lips began to move against Undertaker's, his cheeks' flush spreading across his nose.

The favorable response made Undertaker's heart pound at a fierce tempo. He had never been so effected by a kiss, before. He found himself lifting the smaller man against him, and he thrust his tongue suggestively inside his mouth, demonstrating a powerful desire to do more with him.

The temptation to let his hands wander was nearly overwhelming, but he didn't want to spoil the moment by rushing anything. Undertaker calmed the intensity of his kiss, and he broke it slowly, following up with a couple of small, tender kisses.

He pulled away and released the young man, sliding his hands briefly over his body. He gave Jase's shoulders a squeeze, and he smiled softly at him.

"Forgive me for taking that small liberty, my love. I felt compelled to make a point, and tasting your lips more deeply again was far too sweet a temptation to resist. Now, did that kiss feel at all evil, to you?"

"No…" The doll breathed through kiss-swollen lips, "It didn't feel evil at all…"

Undertaker smiled gently at him. "And you should know, having been a man of the cloth and infused with holy fire, as you are. You can track evil the way a hound tracks a scent, I imagine."

He was so tempted to take him in his arms again and kiss him until his knees buckled, so that he could sweep him up and carry him off to bed, where he would finally relieve his desire for him. But Undertaker had made a promise, though. He would make Jase his when the young man asked him to, and not before then. He settled for giving his shoulders a squeeze and a rub, aching for him, but determined to be a gentleman.

"Well now, we've established that a kiss isn't such a terrible thing." He smiled engagingly and he winked at him. "And you know where to get more, if you want it."

He forced himself to turn away from him, and he made to finish cleaning up the forgotten dishes in the sink. "Just call the name you chose for me, if you decide to ask, lovely. That way, I'll know you mean it."

* * *

To be continued...


	10. Chapter 10

It was the most restless night Undertaker had experienced in a good, long while. His thoughts remained on his dollie, and he couldn't quiet his own mind no matter how he tried. He tossed and turned in his coffin, feeling like he needed more air-even though breathing wasn't a requirement for his kind.

At first, his concerns were focused on the day they had ahead of them. His thoughts naturally turned to the kiss they'd shared, and he found his black silk pajama bottoms too tight in the crotch, before long.

With a lonely little sigh, the reaper decided that self relief was better than none at all. He reached down to take care of his...issue. Maybe a good flogging would make "little Undertaker" behave better, for a while.

* * *

 

In the next room over, bathed in the moonlight that fell across the old bed that had been left in the small house they called home while in Germany, Jase lay with his eyes open. His own mind running wild with thoughts of what the next morning would bring—and Undertaker himself.

And then there was the topic of sins, and lessons of the bible… Stealing, murder, committing adultery…those were sins he could never overlook…especially murder. But Adultery…betrayal…He'd been betrayed by Heaven itself…and he was still hurting from it. He'd given his loyalty to Undertaker after that, and he was determined to stay faithful…and if they were to take their relationship further…

He shook his head and rolled over, hiding half his face in his folded arms, his dark hair spread across his bare back and the white linins covering the old straw mattress. He'd taken to sleeping topless and without blankets in order to help keep his body cooler at night.

Did he want their relationship to change? He didn't even know if he loved the reaper back…how could he tell? He'd had so little experience with love, and he had never been touched and kissed…what if it was simply the thrill and pleasure from such touches?

* * *

 

Undertaker gave one last shudder of release, gasping in pleasure. It was ironic to him, that supernatural creatures such as reapers could have a need for sexual contact. They didn't procreate like humans, so he could only assume it was either a cosmic joke on them, an oversight or a decision to allow them some of the greatest physical pleasures a body could enjoy.

"Is it a reward for our hard work reaping," he pondered, "or is it a punishment?"

Sometimes it certainly _felt_ like a punishment; especially at present. Undertaker glanced down, his dual irises contracting in the darkness to view the pearly- white evidence of his pleasure. Thankfully he'd had the foresight to pull his bottoms down before starting, but he still had a bit of a mess to clean up.

He grumbled in annoyance and exited the coffin to take care of it with the robes he'd shed before bedtime. He wiped his mess off before rearranging his pajamas and getting back into the coffin. At least he and Jase had separate rooms, now. He'd have been mortified if the doll saw him in such a state.

"Next time, do it in the loo, you old pervert," he chastised himself with a yawn. At least now he might be able to sleep.

* * *

 

The next morning, Jase awoke to the bright light of the sun assaulting his face, and he groaned, keeping his eyes closed as he felt around for his blindfold, knocking over a half-melted candle from it's holder before his fingers found the lacy object. With a sigh, he sat up and blindly slipped it on, tying it around his eyes before getting up and heading to the bathroom to get cleaned up and change. The bathroom, luckily, had shutteres outside the windows that he pulled shut so that he could remove his blindfold and fix his hair into his usual neat ponytail. Fixing his blindfold back into place, he left the dim room and entered the bright kitchen where Undertaker was busy cooking breakfast.

"Good morning." He greeted.

Undertaker paused long enough to glance up from the sausage and eggs he was frying in the pan. He offered a bright smile to Jase, and he nodded.

"Morning, love. I've already got your meal ready." He nodded at the plate of tartare he'd prepared for him, sitting on the cracked stone counter. "I'll join you in a moment. I'm nearly done, here."

He was dressed a bit differently today; a necessary deception, with Shinigami authorities after him. He wore a three- piece suit and he had his hair tied back into a neat ponytail, held in place with a ribbon. His bangs were brushed and pinned back too, and he had a dressier top hat to wear with the ensemble. He had a pair of tinted round glasses that he wore with the outfit, to hide his vivid eyes from view.

"Did you sleep well?" Inquired the reaper.

"Just fine," The doll lied, not wanting to admit he had stayed up half the night thinking of the reaper. He took the plate and sat down at the table, "You look nice, today."

"Hmph, you think so?"

Undertaker looked down at the unfamiliar getup, brushing his hands over the suit. "I'm never comfortable in this sort of attire. It reminds me of my days with Dispatch."

He collected the food from the plan and went to sit at the table with it.

"You look very sharp and professional. It suits your body rather than hides it away under layers of draperies." Jase nodded.

Undertaker paused with his first bite halfway to his lips. "Then you would probably appreciate my combat attire, dearest. It's rather snug in appearance, in some places."

The last time he'd revealed said attire hidden beneath the "layers" was when he'd fought Grell, Ronald and Sebastian on board the Campania liner.

"Hmm," he hummed around a moouthful of egg. He swallowed and shook his head. "Let's hope you never have to see me that way, now that I think of it."

Jase seeing him in that attire would mean a fight, and he didn't wish to subject his gentle Dollie to such...vulgarity. He thought it might upset him.

Ye gods, was he ever becoming protective of Jase... And not because he was his 'masterpiece'. Undertaker started to giggle at his own expense, and he swallowed his next bite of food the wrong way as a result. He began to cough, and he reached for his water. He waved away Jase's concern when the doll looked like he wanted to help, and he held up a finger to stall as he caught his breath.

"While I think it would be hilariously ironic for a bit of un-chewed sausage to put an end to me after all this time," he assured, "I have no need for air. Choking can't kill me, love...but it can make me look like a jackass."

Jase relaxed again, gathering a bite of his tartare on his fork, "Then you should not speak with your mouth full, Chronus." He said simply, though a small smile curled the corners of his lips as he chewed.

"Ooh, cheeky," commented Undertaker with a delighted grin of his own.

He couldn't say exactly why, but hearing that name on Jase's lips gave him a little thrill. He was the 'master' in this situation, but he felt he belonged as much to Jase as the Frenchman belonged to him.

He didn't know if his dollie understood the significance of being asked to give him a name of his choosing, but it really didn't matter. Wherever he was, whatever he did, Undertaker would sense any danger or distress he was in. He could always track him, but the naming had formed a bond that Undertaker never thought he would share with anyone.

They finished eating in companionable silence, and afterwards they prepared the coach to take them into town.

* * *

 

 

The closer the horses took the pair to town, the more nervous Jase became, fiddling with the locket he always wore about his neck. If he attacked someone…sure, Undertaker would stop him, but then it'd create problems—much like it had on the train. He wouldn't be welcome in town—or the authorities would be after him.

Undertaker sensed the young man's tension, and before they arrived at the edge if town, he reached over and settled his gloved hand over his. Keeping hold of the reins in one hand, he gave Jase's hand a squeeze with the other and he leaned close to murmur reassurance into his ear.

"I'm right here, love. It will be all right."

"I know…that's why I haven't changed my mind on trying this…but it doesn't make it any easier…we could get into a lot of trouble if I lose myself…"

"You won't," said the reaper. "I won't allow it."

He released Jase's hand then, and they drove into town. Through the narrow, cobblestone streets they went, until they made it to the east side of Düsseldorf, where the consignment shop was located.

Undertaker brought the carriage to a halt, and he hopped down and tipped his hat to a young woman passing by. He opened the carriage door to retrieve the trade goods inside, keeping a close watch on Jase all the while.

Jase climbed down, glancing around at the passing people—so far, so good. He didn't feel any hint of his blackouts he gets when his more savage side makes itself known. He looked up at his companion and offered a small smile before moving to tie the horse's reins to a post and pick up a few of the packaged goods they had brought with them, taking care not to jostle them around too much as some of his carvings were quite delicate.

Pleased that he seemed to be doing okay, Undertaker waited for Jase to finish gathering his things, and he held open the shop door for him.

"Guten tag, Miss," Undertaker greeted the pretty blonde at the register.

She smiled at him as he approached, recognizing him from the last time he'd come in.

"Guten tag, herr. You and your companion have more wares to sell, yes?"

Her English wasn't fantastic, but neither was Undertaker's German. He smiled broadly at her and nodded.

"Indeed, my dear. My companion has more fine wooden sculptures to pretty up your shelves."

Jase smiled at her and opened the first package, pulling out the sculptures carefully wrapped inside and setting them on the counter, and assembling one. A wooden vase with an assortment of wooden flowers, all different shapes, sizes, and colors of wood and stains. They fit together like pieces to a puzzle.

"I have been working on this one very carefully." He explained, putting the last flower (A rose with a red stain) in and pushing it closer to the woman for her inspection. "It is all one piece, so please do not sell each flower separately."

"Of course," she said with a nod.

She looked at Undertaker again, and her blue eyes scanned him up and down with admiration. He was examining a cuckoo clock, oblivious to her stare.

"We do not see that color hair in young men, here," she sighed in a low voice. Undertaker laughed in delight when the bird came out of the clock, and the shop girl seemed even more smitten.

"He is handsome, your partner. Does he have a wife?"

"Wife..? No, no he's single…" Jase responded, slightly bothered by the young woman's question, but not enough to drop any of his manners. He smiled and finished unpacking his carvings for her to look at so that they could discuss a price for each one.

Undertaker found an interesting looking pair of clogs, and though he had no use for them and would probably never use them, he had a powerful desire to buy them...simply to say he had some.

He lifted them off the shelf, and he waited for Jase to finish his conversation with the girl before approaching with them.

"You know, I've never owned a pair of these before," he said conversationally, still keeping his senses on the alert for signs of distress from Jase. "How much for these, darlin'?"

She blushed in a charmed fashion. "Seven marks, Herr."

Undertaker nodded in agreement and he counted out the currency. "There you are."

Jase raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, pocketing the purse of money he'd received for his wares.

Undertaker started to turn and suggest to his companion that they get going, because he had his inspections to do, yet. The shop girl spoke to him before he could get Jase's attention though.

"Will we see you again soon? I can give you best prices, you know."

Undertaker hesitated to answer, suddenly realizing that good prices weren't all she wanted to give him. His brows went up a bit, and his shaded eyes were drawn to her cleavage as she leaned forward over the desk, smiling at him. English ladies would never dream of wearing the low cut style of dress, bit it seemed a popular fashion in this location.

"Er, that's lovely," said the reaper, not even sure what he was talking about anymore.

_'Wait, did I say 'that' or 'those'?'_

Her breasts certainly were lovely, and distracting. Undertaker didn't notice the new customer come in, and his concentration slipped concerning Jase, too.

Jase had stiffened, realizing just where his companion's eyes were directed, and he felt his face grow a little warmer than usual—but not like when the man was teasing _him_ as he normally did…

Sighing, he moved to grab Undertaker's attention once more, when the new customer walked in, and his body stiffened for an entirely different reason. His eyes widened behind his blindfold, his pupils widening and then contracting, his mouth watering, and he could feel his control slip slightly as his head snapped around to look at the large, hairy man, his mouth opening in lust to bite into his flesh.

But only after one step towards the man, he managed to yank himself back, trembling slightly as he put as much distance between them as he could.

The man wandered around the shop a little, scoping the place out. He picked up an item, carrying it up to the counter and setting it down.

Undertaker was dragged out of his awkward moment when he sensed Jase's sudden anxiety. He glanced at the stranger next to him, and then at Jase. The doll had backed away toward the shop entrance, and he was trembling visibly. The hairy man was a ruffian, and Undertaker wasn't surprised that he had provoked a reaction in Jase.

"Pardon me, love," said the reaper to the shop girl.

He forgot all about her flirting as he crossed the distance to his companion. He put a supportive arm around him and he hunched over a bit to speak into his ear.

"Are you all right, pet?"

Jase swallowed and looked up at him, "It's…difficult…" he gasped.

At the counter, the shop girl named her price for the object, and the man pulled out a gun, smirking as he pointed it at her, " _Ich denke, Sie wissen, wie das funktioniert_." He growled.

Jase trembled more, falling to his knees as he fought the suddenly stronger urge to attack. "Ahh— _S'il vous plaît faites que ça s'arrête_ …"

Undertaker reacted to Jase's pleading, more than the robber's threats. His dollie was going to snap, if this kept up. He cared more about keeping his promise than preventing a robbery or death.

"Excuse me, chap," he called to the robber, "you might want to put that away."

" _Eh? Stupide Anglais… You best empty pockets, vous tromper_ " The man said with surprising broken English, " _Blind kid, too_."

Undertaker smiled coldly, his teeth flashing white. "Not a bright one, are you?"

A chill fog began to manifest around him, and though he knew word would get out about it, he called his scythe forth. The fog rolled around his feet thickly as the reaper closed the distance between himself and the robber, gliding too quickly for the man to do more than yelp in reaction.

"Now," Undertaker said as he tugged his shaded glasses off with his free hand. "Shall I reap you, or will you put that toy away and go?"

The girl, as soon as the man had turned his attention away from her, ducked behind her counter, seeing nothing and only shivering from the sudden cold.

The man, however, looked up in fear at the reaper, the gun tumbling out of his hands and falling to the floor, discharging as it hit, and sending the bullet through the wall inches away from Jase, who gasped and curled up, hugging himself.

The man's mouth opened, but no sound came out, he backed up, and fled the small shop.

Undertaker banished his scythe as soon as the threat was gone, and the fog evaporated around him. He checked on Jase, and then he called out to the shop girl.

"It's all right, my dear. He's gone. You can come out, now."

He mentally cursed himself for so rashly revealing his nature, but he'd acted to scare the would-be robber away.

With the man and his sin gone, Jase was able to relax, catching his breath, and fishing his canteen from his bag to help relieve his overwhelming thirst that had been caused by the man. But he had stayed in control…he hadn't needed his leash. For that he was glad.

Though he doubted he would have lasted much longer.

Undertaker watched his companion covertly as he stepped behind the counter to offer a hand up to the young lady. He smiled a little, pleased that Jase had controlled his urges.

"There now," he said to the trembling girl as she embraced him. "You're safe. He won't be coming back."

She began to thank him, the words flying out of her mouth faster than he could translate them.

_"Danke für Ihre Tapferkeit! Sie retteten mein Leben."_

"No, no," said the reaper gently. That wasn't bravery, love. It was annoyance."

"But you stopped him," she said in English. "I kiss you now, for reward!"

At first he thought she'd just gotten some words mixed up in her anxious state, but then her arms went around his neck and she drew him down for a kiss.

Jase finished off the water in his canteen and he slowly stood back up, starting to slip it back in his bag when the girl's words caught his attention only too well, and he turned to look at the girl as she made her move—standing upon her toes, stretching up to meet his lips, closer and closer. Her eyes closed gently as her lips brushed up against the Reaper's…

Before he knew what he was doing, Jase had dropped his canteen and bag, his speed almost inhuman as he found himself behind the two, pulling Undertaker back away from her by the back of his jacket, " _Je suis désolé, nous doit vraiment être vais, madame_."

The Doll's heart pounded loudly in his chest. It wasn't right! She couldn't have him…his kisses… Those lips…Chronus' lovely lips could only touch his! Wait…what was that he just thought? His stride as he pulled Undertaker back around the counter faltered and he nearly tripped over his own feet as he realized what it was he was feeling—jealousy. He was jealous, and more importantly, he didn't care that it was wrong of him to be so.

Undertaker was comically confused by the unexpected manhandling, and he staggered backwards with his companion.

"Jase, what in the..."

He then recalled the doll's reaction to the robber, and the way he'd reached for his canteen afterwards. Figuring he might be overheated, Undertaker conceded and he gave a little bow to the girl.

"Pity we must be going, darlin'. Maybe some other time."

Once they were outside, Undertaker looked at him with faint concern. Jase was flushed and looking quite unhappy.

Misunderstanding his issue, the reaper tried to reassure him. "I can cool you off inside the coach, before we leave for my associates' facilities. Jase, you _did_ it. You faced an evildoer without blacking out and losing control, or requiring my compulsion! That ought to make you smile."

"Chronus…" Jase tossed his bag and empty canteen into the coach, having grabbed it in a hurry as they left the shop so that they wouldn't have to go back in to retrieve them—mostly Undertaker. Oh how selfish he felt… It was a strange feeling, jealousy and selfishness…he couldn't even remember feeling it for his dear Joyelle when she had wed another so suddenly. He had been happy for her. So what was the difference? He fingered his locket about his neck, and the small oval charm clicked open. He looked down and took out the thin folded paper within.

It wasn't a full sized sheet—the locket was small, after all, made to hold two small pictures rather than a letter. Carefully, he unfolded it, and read over the scrolled words upon it—words he hadn't read since he'd put it in the locket. The first half of the letter was gone—he had had to rip it so that he could keep part of it.

_…and my dearest Jase, I do hope you find happiness of your own._

_With all my love; Joy._

_P.S. Don't ever forget who your real family is._

Upon reading those words again, the small Frenchman understood the difference. Yes, he'd loved Joyelle more than he'd loved anything before—but as a sister. _She_ was his family…he'd been happy for her because the man she wed made her happy. He'd misunderstood her love for him, and his for her, because he'd never been loved by his father. So that meant…

Jase turned around to face the reaper that fate had so violently dropped into his life. His eyes ran over the man's features, his cheeks heating as they fell lower over the body beneath a properly tailored suit. The man was annoying at times, his morals questionable…but god help him; he had some how, at some point during their months together, had fallen in love with him. He couldn't deny it, not anymore. It was all to clear, now.

"Chronus…kiss me." he requested, meeting the reaper's questioning gaze, " _Only_ me."

Telling such an impulsive reaper to kiss him probably wasn't the best move, on Jase's part. Undertaker felt his sincerity, through the link they had formed. His heart seemed to leap with joy in his chest, and Undertaker began to do just as commanded; right there at the curb in broad daylight.

The Doll knew Undertaker would have obeyed the request right away, but it still took the little Frenchman by surprise as he was swept up into the reaper's arms, their lips melded together once more. He let a small moan escape, and his fingers curled around the lapel of Undertaker's coat. A warning was sounding in the back of his mind that they were not in the privacy of the carriage, but his heart didn't care. His heart wanted to make its claim upon the impulsive old god of death.

Swept up in the moment, Undertaker didn't particularly care what any passing humans might think; but one of his horses nickered and snorted, reminding him that there was a perfectly good, enclosed coach they could take advantage of.

He took a moment to savor his companion's lips with a swipe of his tongue, and then he partially released him from his embrace. He practically yanked the carriage door open, and he urged Jase inside before following behind him.

There was no driver to take them to their next destination, but business was the last thing on the reaper's mind right now.

Jase immediately felt more relaxed once they were in private, and as soon as Undertaker had closed the door, he made his move, pressing against the crouching man and knocking him into the bench seat along the back of the coach's interior, taking advantage of his small size to do so with grace before his lips found Undertaker's once more.

Undertaker wasn't expecting such sudden, desperate passion from the doll after the reluctance and guilt he'd expressed so far, but he was by no means complaining. He groaned low in his throat, his hands settling on Jase's waist as he returned the pressure of his lips.

He eased his tongue into the Frenchman's mouth, striking and probing with ardor. He swelled in his trousers quickly, and he wondered if he might pop a button. Breath quickening, heart pounding, he fenced with Jase's tongue and he began to stroke one hand upwards over his vest, undoing buttons as he went.

Jase's lips moved like liquid over Undertaker's, his teeth nipping lightly once or twice. Pulling himself into Undertaker's lap, he moaned, losing himself completely in the sweet bliss of the kiss.

' _Merciful death, I was right. My lovely dollie is a firebrand, beneath all that shame and hesitation.'_

Undertaker had gone too long without intimate contact, and he meant to at least give Jase a sample of the pleasures he intended to give him. Expressing any hesitation could ruin the mood, and he trusted his companion to let him know, if he wanted him to stop. He was wary, though, because of Jase's innocence and previous doubts. A little at a time, just as he'd originally planned when he first realized he wanted him. The key was to tantalize, without spooking him.

Undertaker put one hand on Jase's hip as the doll straddled his lap, and he paused unbuttoning the vest and blue shirt to pull his glasses off. He followed up with Jase's blindfold, tugging it over his head, since the curtains in the carriage were drawn. He broke the kiss to murmur a husky request.

"Let me see these eyes of yours, lovely. I adore them."

Panting lightly, Jase pulled back and opened his swirled blue eyes, his gaze glazed over with lust and adoration for the first time. His breath feathered past his parted lips as his chest heaved. Reaching forward, he touched the man's cheek, "I think…I understand these feelings more…" he whispered.

Undertaker smiled, his eyes alight with desire. "Then let me show you more, pet." He finished unbuttoning Jase's top garments, and he tugged his glove off with his teeth before parting the material a bit to slip his hand inside. "Let me pleasure you."

He kissed the smooth column of the doll's throat, and he brushed the pad of his thumb over his left nipple, circling it until it tightened to a hard little nub.

"Hha!" The Doll inhaled sharply, his eyes closing again and his head falling back, "N-not… too much…Chronus…"

"Mmm, sensitive," approved the reaper with a grin. He nibbled Jase's earlobe and he gave the other nipple some attention, obligingly keeping his ministrations above the waist.

"I—I'm new to this… Of c-course I am…and…and you have things to do still…" Jase whispered, biting down on his lip.

While Undertaker thought there was a certain ambivalence to Jase's reminder, he chose not to push his luck. His fantasy of making the doll cry out his name and shudder in his arms would just have to wait a bit longer. The kissing alone was a big step, for such a shy creature.

"Ah, forgive me," sighed the reaper. He stopped his gentle fondling, and he kissed the tip of his companion's nose. "Seems you'll have to remind me of my promise from time to time. I really can't get enough of you, my darling Jase."

He began to re-fasten the doll's clothing.

"Chronus…Just me…alright?" he reached up and played with a lock of the Reaper's fringe. "If you must kiss someone…let me be selfish and take them all. Not that woman." His cheeks flushed brighter; oh what he'd become; a plea of selfishness for a promise of loyalty in a sinful relationship.

Undertaker's bright, half-mad smile returned. "Then you'd best be prepared to get kissed a lot, my dear."

"As long as it's only my lips you claim with yours." He repeated in a whisper.

"Possessive, are we?" Undertaker winked at him, and he finished tidying up his garments. "You have my solemn vow, love. Unless we part ways, my lips-and the rest of me-belong only to you."

He gave him one last, lingering kiss before seeking out his discarded shades and glove. He gazed at his companion as Jase replaced his blindfold, and he sighed.

"I do hope you still feel the same, after we reach our next destination. I think it would be wise for me to apply your compulsion now." He lacked his usual smile when he said it, dead serious. "We made great progress today, but you're going to be exposed to more than one human with a muddied soul. I wish we could skip this bit, but I think it's necessary for you to understand how unique and special you are."

Jase nodded, "I assumed you worked with such souls…given what you do for them with making…" he paused, "making Dolls like me."

"They are _nothing_ like you," insisted the reaper. "And today, you'll finally get to see that for yourself.

Undertaker-who was just beginning to think of himself as Chronus-caressed Jase's face. "We'll see if you still want to lay claim to my lips, once you see what I'm really capable of."

"I imagine…they are much like myself when I black out and attack…" he said, moving off the reaper's lap, "The difference is that I can still be myself any other time…but I've a thought…if the men you work with will trigger my darker side and I black out…how will I even see the other Dolls to compare?"

"I don't allow humans to remain in the containment area during awakening or inspection processes. I've given my associates charms to protect them from the Bizarre Dolls, but they're so greedy when they wake up that I don't take the chance. I'm still working on perfecting their ability to obey simple commands from my clients."

The doll swallowed and nodded, "Like how I obey you when you need to use my 'leash'?" Again, he paused, "Chronus…I still have my soul, right? That's what makes me different from them? And that's what they are after—I go after sin, as you put it…they go after souls…what if they come after me? What if they trigger my darker side?"

"Something like that, yes." Undertaker reached out to stroke his hair. "I'll have you watch from the observation deck. It's proven safe enough in the past, and I can trust you not to try and climb down for a closer look. The same can't be said of my greedy, curious associates."

He paused in thought. "As for triggering your hunger, these creatures are neither good nor evil, and you won't be close enough on the catwalk to be affected by them, if for some reason they _can_ trigger you."

Jase nodded, "Alright…I think…I'm ready now." He muttered, not thinking up of any more questions or concerns dealing with his brethren.

Undertaker applied the compulsion then, and then he patted his shoulder. "All right, let's get this done."

* * *

To be continued...


	11. Chapter 11

With Blindfold and glasses in place, Undertaker and Jase moved up front to the driver's bench on the coach and traveled through the city to where Undertaker needed to take care of business. As they came onto the old, warn building—seemingly an old factory of sorts, Jase looked up at it's broken windows, remembering back to his own reawakening in that dirty old basement, and he wondered if the others had any sense of self in them…if they awoke as confused as he had.

Undertaker brought the carriage to a stop outside the old factory, and he hopped down to tie off the reins at the post. A flamboyantly dressed blond man in white came out to greet them, smiling brightly.

"My dear Undertaker! What a pleasure it is to see you again."

He shook the reaper's hand, and his violet gaze strayed to Jase. "And what have we here? Another one for the collection?"

Undertaker smoothly stepped between the blond and the Frenchman, keeping the former from getting too close. "He's not a doll," explained the reaper. "He's had surgery and his eyes are sensitive to the light, but as you can see, he is a living chap just like us."

"Oh," said the blond, blinking at Jase with interest. "And what a _pretty_ little bird he is, too! Why, I'm jealous of your fortune, my friend."

Undertaker glanced at his companion, and he kept himself between the two of them. "Jase, this is Viscount Druitt. He funds the operation. Viscount, meet my assistant, Jase."

"Pleasure to meet you, sir." Jase responded with a polite nod of his head. There was a fair amount of distance between he and the Viscount, but he could still feel a slight pull to his darker side, and he made a mental note to stay clear of the man so vainly dressed in white. He climbed off the coach and moved around the opposite side of the horse, reaching up and petting the horse's nose when it nuzzled his shoulder. They had had a hard time finding a horse that wasn't spooked by the Doll if he got too close, and this one seemed to be fond of Jase.

"Well, shall we?" Invited Druitt. The newest stock isn't going to wake itself up."

Undertaker grinned. "Not likely, no." He looked at Jase. "Come along, love. This won't take too terribly long."

Jase blushed lightly and nodded, following the reaper in silence, readying himself for whatever sight awaited his lace-covered eyes.

They went inside, and Undertaker introduced Jase to three more men and a woman as they toured the facilities. He was careful to keep them away from his companion, never allowing them to get closer than three feet. A couple of them were suspicious and curious about that, but none of them dared question Undertaker's motives.

After traversing a reinforced corridor to a pair of steel doors, the reaper warned his human associates to stay behind. Druitt argued with him as Undertaker tuned the crank lock on the doors to open them up.

"You've always allowed us to watch before, from the observation deck."

Undertaker turned, removed his shades and placed them into his jacket pocket. He grinned at the blond man in a predatory manner. "As you know, I've been altering my technique a bit, since the last inspection. Why, I'm not even sure how powerful or sentient this batch is. The power of speech was just one step to a larger goal."

He drew Jase closer to him, covertly shielding him from the blond man's aura. "We wouldn't want you to get hurt or killed, Druitt. Best leave us to it, and I'll give you my report afterwards."

The Viscount paired a bit, but he gave Undertaker a charming smile and a bow. "As you wish, god of death. I trust in your work."

Undertaker nodded in satisfaction. He opened the door and the metal groaned in protest as the heavy barrier was pushed open. Undertaker guided Jase in onto the metal grid walkway beyond, closing the door behind him.

Familiar with the expansive, underground chambers and the catwalk observation walkways lining the walls, he took Jase by the arm to guide him through the dimness, and he pointed out the hundreds of rows of containment capsules below.

"That lot of twenty in the front there is the newest ones, and I have to go down and begin waking the occupants. I'll do it one at a time and run them each through the tests. Just stay up here."

The Doll nodded, gripping the railing as he peered down, "They can speak?" he asked, referring to the reaper's words to the Viscount.

"The newer ones are endowed with the capability of simple speech," answered Undertaker with a nod. "They can't carry on a conversation, mind you. It's rather like parrots; they know a few words, but their vocabulary is severely limited."

He turned to face the doll, and he measured him with his eyes. "This will probably be a bit shocking for you, but try and remember that they aren't truly alive, Jase. The life left them before I did my work on them."

With that said, he opened the security gate to the stairs and he locked it behind him as he stepped through. He looked back at Jase one last time, and he hoped he wouldn't turn away from him, when he saw his handiwork for the first time.

The doll bit his lip and watched the Undertaker; He wasn't worried about the reaper. The man had done this many times, after all. But he was nervous as to 'meeting' his brothers, seeing what he was likely like…how monstrous Bizarre Dolls really were.

Undertaker set his kit on the examination table nearby, and he approached his first choice of the free-standing, metal pods to knock on it. After a few moments, he heard a confused, uneven knock back. He smiled, and he twisted the crank sealing it shut. He opened the container with a creak, and he looked inside at the blindfolded doll. He'd stitched her mouth shut like the others as a safety precaution, in the unlikely event that they got out before control was established over them.

"There you are, my dear," he said when the female gave a muffled moan. He removed his gloves and he reached out to her flailing hands, and he took them in his to guide her out into the dim lamplight.

"Now, let's see," said the reaper. He released one of her hands and he opened his case to procure the surgical scissors inside. He released her other hand and he grasped her jaw and tilted her head back, making her tangled brown hair fall free of the loose bun it was in.

"Just a few little snips," announced Undertaker softly, "and we'll see what your first words as a dollie will be."

He clipped free the sutures binding her lips together, and he pulled them free with his fingernails.

"Go ahead, then," he urged her, supporting her staggering body with a light embrace. "What do you have to say to your master, hmm?"

She opened her mouth wide, and she tried to take a few steps toward the catwalk stairs. He stopped her with a chastising shake of his head.

"No, no, my dear," corrected the reaper. "I won't have you trying to dine on your cousin, that way. Now tell me, what do you have to say?"

She turned her head stiffly in his detection, and the words that came out of her mouth gave him pause.

"Yes, I'm certain...he is...the one you want. Druitt...funds his...r-r-research. He will come...at week's end."

It dawned on Undertaker that he was listening to a repeated account of something this doll heard, while she was locked in her transition pod. He felt the warning, chill tingle of dimensional portals opening up nearby, and he looked up at Jase.

"Jase, get out of here."

The Frenchman had leaned over the railing, lifting his blindfold to get a proper, yet distant, look at the other Doll. She moved stiffly—more so than he had felt himself when he'd awoken—of course she could actually stand on her own while he could not. She was an empty shell. No soul, no spark of life or personality. And yet, he felt a connection to her—as if they were of the same mind. He could understand her. And when she moved to join him—he'd almost himself moved down to meet her. Somehow, he knew she meant him no harm, despite how he had a soul—something she craved. No. He was one of them…and they never harmed their own. She knew he had a soul…and she was yearning to be shown how to get one of her own—she looked up to him? This wasn't what he'd expected at all…Dolls weren't as bad as he'd imagined.

So caught up in his own thoughts, he hardly heard Undertaker speak to him, and he looked at him questioningly, the English words not registering in his distracted mind.

Undertaker blurted a rare curse when five reapers stepped out of a few portals that opened up. Four of them were unfamiliar to him, and they wore the deep blue uniforms of the German branch. The fifth reaper was in the London style suit, and he recognized him as Alan Humphries.

One of the German reapers had materialized near Jase on the catwalk, and Undertaker's protective instincts kicked in before the stranger could even get his bearings and make a move.

Jase let out a startled gasp, his swirled eyes fixed on the reapers that had appeared, though the flash of light when the portals closed hurt his unprotected gaze, and he brought his arm up to shield them.

"Take care of that one for me, love," he said to the bizarre doll in his arms, and he propelled her towards the nearest German. While her single-minded attack had that one distracted, Undertaker took a gravity defying leap, clearing the heads of the other two Germans to land on the catwalk beside his dollie. He manifested his death scythe quickly and he put himself between the threat and his lover as Alan approached with the remaining German.

"Afternoon, gents," greeted Undertaker cheerily, despite his precarious situation. "What brings you to my humble factory, as if I couldn't guess?"

"Legendary Reaper Death, currently known as 'Undertaker', you are hereby under arrest for your crimes against the Laws of death." Alan's small, but strong voice recited, "Come quietly and perhaps the courts will go easy on you."

Undertaker clucked his tongue. "Pretty speech, that. I'm disinclined to cooperate with your order though, friend."

He tried to nudge Jase toward the exit, while there was still a chance for him to escape.

"Nobody leaves," said the flaxen-haired, powerfully built reaper next to Alan. His hair was slicked back onto a ponytail, and the clawed weeder that served as his scythe glinted in the dull lamplight.

Undertaker frowned. "Leave my companion out if this."

"Humans you have involved will have their memories of the events blocked, and your monstrous creations shall all be disposed of." Another reaper stated.

Jase paled and without another thought, he grabbed Undertaker's hand, turning on his heel, and started sprinting towards the door, dragging Undertaker behind him.

Surprised by Jase's sudden, unexpected move, Undertaker stumbled after the doll. He could have laughed at the situation, if that German hadn't informed him that all of his creations were to be destroyed. It wouldn't take a thorough examination of Jase for them to discover the truth about him.

Knowing reaper abilities as he did, Undertaker knew that running away wasn't really an option. They would catch up with them, unless they were incapacitated. He yanked the exit doors open, and he shoved Jase through them.

"Go, while I keep them distracted," he ordered. "They want me alive, but they'll destroy you like the others, if they capture you. Go, and take the carriage far away from here! I'll find you later."

"But—Chronus…" The Doll looked up at him with worried eyes, "Come with me—please!"

There was no time to try and convince him gently. Undertaker slammed the door shut with Jase on the other side, and he hoped he would have the good sense to do as he was told and flee. The ancient was confident that he could deal with his opponents, but he wanted his lover long gone from this place, in the event he got captured.

Bracing himself, Undertaker turned around to face his attackers. A mad grin formed on his pale lips. They thought they had him outnumbered, but they evidently hadn't considered the small army of bizarre dolls he had at his disposal.

All he needed to do was wake them up.

* * *

 

 

"Chronus!" Jase tried the door, finding himself locked out. What could he do? He couldn't run to get the authorities, Those people had arrived quite—supernaturally. But running to save himself and leave others behind wasn't in his nature. If he were caught, he'd be destroyed, yes, but how could he run and leave Undertaker to possibly be captured? He certainly had no way of going after them to save him. The Reapers didn't live in the same realm that humans did… And he depended so much on the retired reaper—not to mention their relationship on a personal level…he'd only just opened up to the man! He couldn't leave him now!

Undertaker did his best to shut out the muffled sounds of his lover pleading with him, through the door. He wasn't going to leave. He really should have known better, but he was almost counting on Jase retaining some sense of self-preservation.

"Fool priest," sighed the reaper, but he grinned. "Perhaps you've come to love your 'Chronus' after all."

The fact remained that the stubborn little git wouldn't flee as advised, and that left Undertaker with no option except to win this fracas. He turned to face the reapers closing in on him, and he manifested his chill fog, working his will to alter his garments accordingly.

"So, this is true love, eh?" he pondered aloud to himself. "Stings a bit."

The German reapers looked at each other in confusion, wondering who he was addressing. Alan Humpries had a better understanding of the ancient's personality, though.

The London representative narrowed his eyes, "That boy…He had the smell of the dead on him…and yet he seems perfectly alive." He looked over at one of the German Officers, "Klaus, that boy has a French accent to his speech, is there a Frenchmen on the collection list for this area?"

The man pulled out a pad of paper and flipped through, "Nein. There are none Frenchmen."

"Then why would he smell so close to death?" Alan wondered out loud, and then turned his gaze back on Undertaker, "What is he?"

Undertaker smiled at Alan. "Him? Why, he's my conscience. You oughtn't worry about him though, chap."

With that said, he manifested a couple of sotobas on his free hand and he hurled them violently through the air. As they whistled toward the two reapers on either side of Alan, Undertaker lunged toward him, with the blade of his scythe leading the way.

Alan leapt back, swinging his scythe forward to block Undertaker's, his shoes skidding back across the iron platform from the absorbed force of the attack. "Why are you doing this, sir? You were the ideal reaper all others strived to be like! Why throw everything away with breathing a fake life into the dead—to create more death?"

Undertaker laughed. "A fine thing to aspire to be; a tamed dog on a leash. If I could give you an answer I thought you could understand or accept, I would."

He leaped away with a grunt as a third German tried to take advantage of his conversation to find an opening. The fourth one had dispatched the female doll that Undertaker sicc'd on him, and he was busy helping his two comrades get free of the grave markers pinning them to the catwalk gridding.

Undertaker rolled and came back up near Alan. He swung his scythe in a wide arch, aiming not to kill, but to cripple. He had nothing against this young reaper, and as a fellow Londoner, there was a sentimentality he couldn't really shake.

The others though, they were expendable.

Alan gasped and moved to block again, finding himself only on the defense. "Our laws govern reaper kind so that the world will function in a balanced nature. We exist to keep the world of the living separated from the world of the dead! You have compromised that balance." He ducked as a German swung his scythe at Undertaker.

"I can't blame you for seeing things that way," said Undertaker. He jumped aside just in time to avoid the strike that surely would have lobbed his arm off, had he been slower. "You still see the world through the customized lenses of your Dispatch glasses. I've since learned a thing or two about shades of grey, since giving mine up."

He lobbed another sotoba at the German that had attacked him, and he saw his chance when he followed up with a swing that forced Alan to duck or lose his head. Undertaker took a running leap, and he cleared Alan's head to arch down to the floor below.

Unfortunately, one of the reapers carried a scythe similar to his own, though much plainer in appearance. It had enough reach to clip him in the side on his way down, and his landing wasn't quite so graceful, as a result.

Undertaker stumbled and clamped one hand over his injury, pressing his clothing against the gouge to stem the flow of blood. He looked up at the enemy reapers and his eyes met Alan's. A thin trickle of red leaked from the corner of his mouth as he smiled at the pretty-faced young brunet.

"Fancy that; I thought it would be you to draw first blood, London agent."

"I came to take you back to London to stand trial, not to cut you down, Legendary Death." Alan said, leaping down and landing gracefully upon the lid of the empty coffin once containing a Doll. He straightened, twirling his scythe in hand as he did so so that it would be at the ready, "Blood was only spilt because you refused to come quietly."

"We'll, you can hardly blame me," said the ancient with a smirk. "You lot _did_ threaten my conscience, after all."

He circled around the capsule, keeping an eye on his other opponents through his peripheral vision, while listening, tasting and feeling with his other senses. His poor, un-aided vision was to blame for his injury, after all. He hadn't spotted the reaper that struck him until it was too late.

"Since you gents want to put an end to my dollies, I think I'll give them the opportunity to play with you."

Ignoring the tearing pain in his side, Undertaker launched several more sotoba, to buy himself time. One impaled the German named 'Klaus' in a rather painful looking way, and another slammed against the wall just over another reaper's head, to crack and splinter around him. Alan deflected his grave marker and the others were still too far away to be in any danger from the attack.

Undertaker then leapt away from Alan while he was distracted, and he kicked the release lever near the front row of capsules. He grinned, bowed stiffly and tipped his hat-which had somehow remained on his head throughout the ordeal.

"Gentlemen, enjoy my children. They're quite hungry, you see."

All of the coffin-like, reinforced capsules clicked open with an ominous sound, and the moaning of the undead occupants echoed through the chamber.

Undertaker got lost in the crowd of them as they shuffled towards his attackers. The newest ones were faster and stronger than the others, and they reached Alan and Klaus first.

"I do hope you survive, Mr. Humphries," he offered in parting as he made his way to a hidden exit, "aim for the head."

He left them to their battle then, and he silently vowed to get out of the doll making business...after he learned who had betrayed him to the Berlin Dispatch.

* * *

To be continued...


	12. Chapter 12

Jase hurried around the unfamiliar building, looking for a way to help his reaper companion—mostly a way in. He remembered he had seen a line of windows along the far end of the chamber, high above the ground floor. Arming himself with a thin led pipe and a length of rope he hoped would get him to the catwalk below the windows, he searched for his destination. Undertaker would likely be cross with him for not listening and running to safety, but he had his free will, unlike all the other Dolls, and he had his morals that remained unmoving. He would not forsake a soul in need—especially the idiotic reaper who had not only saved his life—but made him learn more about a different kind of love.

He rounded a corner and gasped, hearing footsteps approaching quickly, and he backed against the wall, readying himself to strike if he was attacked.

* * *

 

Undertaker fought to hold back giggles as he sprinted softly over the ground. Part of his amusement stemmed from the look of horror on two of the German reapers' faces when he'd unleashed his dollies on them, but some of it was just giddy relief...or perhaps the giddiness was from a loss of blood. The single wound he'd sustained in the fight was a bit worse than he had first thought; he was coughing blood when he drew breath, and it was hard to avoid doing so with a case of the snickers.

He could sense Jase's presence getting closer, and he wondered why he was around the back of the building. Perhaps he'd driven the carriage there and was still hesitating.

Knowing they had but a few precious moments to leave the premises before more reapers arrived to back up the others, he dragged his increasingly heavy feet along and he tried not to use his lungs.

Unfortunately, he had to draw breath to call out for his companion.

"J...ase," he tried to say, but his right lung was filled with blood and it bubbled on his lips as he made the weak call.

* * *

 

As soon as the figure rounded the corner and Jase would be seen, the Frenchman grit his teeth and closed his eyes tight as he swung his pipe; feeling it smack into the man's ribs, " _Je suis désolé_!" he gasped out, hating that he took on an act of violence to hurt someone. But he regretted it all the more when he opened his eyes and found none other than Undertaker had taken the hit and had fallen onto the floor. "Chronus! I—I'm sorry! I didn't—I'm sorry!" The Frenchmn dropped the pipe and crouched next to the reaper.

"Nice...swing," complimented the reaper. The doll had managed to strike him just beneath the gash in his side, and when the pipe came away bloody and Jase's look of dismay deepened, Undertaker tried to reassure him.

"Not...your doing, love. Death scythe...did that. I've survived...worse."

And indeed, he had the permanent marks to show for it. He briefly wondered why he didn't just stay with his dolls and finish his enemies off. He'd faced worse odds before and lived to tell the tale. He grinned ruefully when the answer came to him.

Love was slowing him down. "It's not easy, having...a conscience."

He got back to his feet with his small companion's help, and the right side if his garments were soaked through with his blood. He'd forgotten how much death scythes stung. Other injuries would heal rapidly, almost as soon as they were made...but not a wound from a death scythe.

"Forget the carriage," said Undertaker when his lover tried to lead him back around to the front. "No time. They'll...track me. Have to teleport directly home."

He embraced the smaller man and he poured his remaining energy recklessly into the dimensional warp. He had perfected his method so as not to leave a trace of his aura behind, but it took twice the effort. He practically fell through the resulting portal, taking Jase with him, and it closed behind them immediately.

The Frenchman gasped, his head spinning from the effects of the portal, and he groaned as he let his spinning head calm. "Witchcraft like that is not natural…" he complained, rolling Undertaker over onto his back before opening his vest and shirt to look at the nasty wound.

Stitches, water, a salve…maybe some alcohol to use as a painkiller… He went over a list of what he needed in his head and ran around the small cottage, gathering what he could and moving to clean the reaper's wound.

* * *

 

_He was in a field of corpses, overlooking a canyon. They had done it; they had stopped the attack on the great library...but at what cost? So many gone...so many reaped, never to return._

_And it all happened because they questioned... Because they wanted the forbidden knowledge within the catacombs beneath the library. They wanted to know why they were chosen, and what fate awaited them when their long lives as reapers eventually ended-which all lives inevitably did._

_Was it so wrong to question, and to seek?_

_"Death..."_

_He looked down when he felt the light, weak touch on his calf. One of his brethren-one that he had cut down himself-was still alive...just barely. He knelt down beside him and he took his bloodied hand in a hollow gesture of comfort. His long silver hair stirred in the breeze, glinting with cheerful highlights in the sunlight of the realm._

_"I regret...nothing," informed the ginger-haired, dying reaper. "Finish me. I would...be ended by the first of us."_

_Death lowered his gaze, troubled for reasons he could not explain. "Fool."_

_The other gave a ghastly smile. "Fools never question."_

_Death sighed, and he released the other reaper's hand to stand up. He stared down at his fallen brother with a glimmer of regret in his ancient, green-gold eyes._

_"No, but corpses do. I am... Sorry."_

_He finished the job then, but a part of that moment stayed with him from then on, making him question and doubt._

* * *

 

"I'm sorry," Undertaker coughed in his delirium, unaware he was even speaking aloud. The injury, while not fatal by itself, had been angered by his use of teleportation, causing some of his own records to play before his eyes. Of course, they could not be seen by Jase.

The Doll grit his teeth. Nothing he did seemed to help. He couldn't stop the flow of blood, as soon as the wound was cleaned, it seemed to start all over again. It was so unnatural! Why wasn't Undertaker healing like he had when he'd been shot?

" _Dieu bon sang_!" Jase grabbed the last clean rag he had found and pressed it to the wound. He needed it to stop bleeding—at least enough where he could stitch it together again! With his sleeves rolled up, and worry for this foolish old reaper, Jase applied as much pressure as he dared to upon the gash, his eyes closing, almost in prayer. And—it was tempting, had he any faith left that Heaven would help—if they even listened at all to prayers—he would have.

His body began to heat up, the sweat upon his cheeks starting to sizzle. But he ignored it, not letting up on trying to stop the bleeding until he felt a painful stitch in his side. He gasped and looked down, seeing blood soaking through his own shirt and vest. His eyes widened, and using his hand, leaving the other to keep Undertaker's wound pressurized, he tugged his shirt out of his pants and looked. A thin cut, much like Undertaker's had appeared, and he looked back at Undertaker's. Scorch marks could be seen on his pale skin around the gash—which looked smaller. And the cloth was smoking in his hands. He didn't quite understand, but he did realized what had happened, and he closed his eyes again, ignoring the increasing pain in his side until he could stand it no longer. The cloth had burst into flames, and he'd tossed into the bowl of water, Undertaker's side burned, but not cut, and his own, while bleeding, had begun to fester like a burn, closing itself up as his body's heat rose, causing the doll to grow delirious and collapse.

* * *

 

 

Undertaker came out of his swoon with the realization that the heat he was feeling beside him wasn't from the funeral pyres of his fallen brethren, but from the small, lithe Frenchman. He lifted his head from the wooden floor in confusion, and when he saw Jase lying still beside him, he sat up with a pained groan.

His side burned, but his lungs were clear of blood and a quick look revealed what appeared to be scorched hand marks over the area where his cut had been. They were rapidly fading, and an examination of his companion showed him that Jase had a healing scorch mark on the same side.

He was burning up again, too.

Still weakened and disoriented, the reaper dragged his companion into his arms and called upon death's chill, holding him close.

Jase moaned, tilting his head in closer to the source of the cold, laying in Undertaker's arms for near a half hour before his eyes opened and he found himself looking up at the reaper, "…y're an idiot…" he groaned out, having meant that the reaper had truly scared him into thinking he'd die.

"I'm the idiot?" Challenged Undertaker with a relieved chuckle. "So says the man who nearly burned himself to ash, to heal Death."

He lifted the smaller man in his arms, grunting with uncommon effort due to his weakened state. They both desperately needed a bath, but he knew Jase wasn't ready to lie naked with him, even to get cleaned up. He decided to carry him into the master bedroom with him instead, and he laid him down gently on the bed he never used, before climbing in with him.

Undertaker drew Jase close, and he brushed dry, chapped lips over the doll's heated forehead as he lowered the temperature around them again.

"As soon as we've recovered, we'd best be on our way," He said in a hoarse, tired murmur. "I'll collect a new carriage and horses, and we'll take what we can fit. Bugger the rest. It's time we moved on to your mother country, love."

Vengeance could wait. He was immortal, after all.

"Idiot, yes…" Jase murmured, sliding his arms around Undertaker's torso, You could have come with me… Me? I don't know what I did…or how…I just wanted you to stop bleeding before you ran dry…"

"If I had tried to come with you," reasoned Undertaker between soft little kisses, "they would have pursued and we wouldn't have had the dolls to keep them distracted enough to get away."

He kissed Jase on the lips, a little deeper. "And if they had captured you and discovered your nature, I don't doubt they would have killed you. I couldn't allow that."

"You could have done that…magic-thing sooner." Jase pointed out, "Brought us back here…and not gotten hurt…I really am sorry for hitting you with a led pipe…"

Undertaker chuckled at the doll's stubborn persistence. "I can't win this argument, can I?"

"No, you can't." Jase stated, looking up at him, "I know you were trying to protect me…but…if something happens to you, then where would I be? A Doll without a Leash? I could barely handle this morning with the help of the Tartare, and I'm no cook…eggs are one thing…meats…meats are different. I'd be a danger to people…I'd have to Isolate myself…and I don't think I could handle that…being without people…without you…"

Undertaker's tired gaze lit up at the subtle affection in his words. "I had no intention of leaving you, my lovely. I just wanted you away from there while I provided the distraction, and I didn't plan to linger for long. I would have found you...just like I did when you hit me with that pipe."

He snickered softly at Jase's blush of shame. "Oh, don't fret. You tapped into a rather marvelous new ability and healed me right up. No guilt."

He fought a yawn. "I'd like to speak with you more on that subject, but it can wait until we're both rested."

The Frenchman nodded, "I am tired…" he sighed, relaxing with his cheek on the reaper's cool skin. It was…relaxing and comforting, and it didn't take him long to drift off to sleep.

* * *

To be continued...


	13. Chapter 13

_We left our small cottage by early afternoon, the next day. I procured a wagon and two horses for us from the farmer's market outside town, and we took only what we could fit into my favorite coffin and our trunks. Got a nice deal on the wagon, too. It's a proper gypsy wagon, with enough room inside for both of us to stretch out and rest cozy at night. I suppose we could have brought more...possibly a second coffin, but truth be told, I've been feeling disenchanted with the doll making business. Being turned in by one of my clients naturally put another nail in that coffin...er...so to speak._

_After discussing what happened that day with Jase and hearing him describe what he did, I've come to the conclusion that he's inherited some angelic healing abilities from the holy spark they put into him. Now, when I say "healing", I don't mean the pretty "lay on hands and fix it right up" sort. Angelfire doesn't work like that of "Jesus"-like healing. They take the injury into themselves and let their holy grace purify it. Think of it as a trade-off, of sorts._

_The problem is, my dollie isn't an angel, nor is he human, anymore. If he were the former, he wouldn't have gotten tuckered out so easily—or at all. If he were the latter...well, he'd be naught but ash, now. Jase has within him a remarkable potential to heal, but like his hunger for sinners, he must learn to control and manage it. I will help him, if I can._

_We've been on the road for three days, and we've just entered France. The horses have gotten used to Jase's unusual scent, but it's a pity we had to leave behind the old ones. The dapple truly seemed to like Jase, and I know he misses her._

_You might ask what old Chronus...I mean Undertaker...is going to do to keep the coffers full, without the doll business to bring in the coin. It's simple, really; apothecary business. We'll find a nice spot in the country with good soil, and I'll grow my own herbs for my trade, while Jase sells his wood works. We can keep going that way for a while, so long as we're discreet and watch out for that log..._

* * *

 

"Chronus! Watch out! You'll break an axel if you don't pay attention! Get back on the road!" Jase scolded, yanking the journal from his companion's hands, "Stop writing while driving!"

Undertaker looked up with dull surprise, and his last written words trailed off in a scrawl of ink as he dropped his stylus to the seat and hastily steered the wagon away from the obstacle—He wasn't quite fast enough. The front right wheel struck the dead log, jarring the wagon and sending his companion sprawling over his lap. Undertaker impulsively grinned down at Jase, in the manner of a lecher.

"My, my...all you needed to do was ask..."

His joke was cut short when the wheel came free of the cart and rolled away. Undertaker had time enough to hold onto his top hat, before the wagon listed badly.

The horses came to a stop of their own accord, and they almost looked as exasperated with him as the sputtering Frenchman in his lap.

"Bugger," muttered the reaper. He was in for it now.

"I told you!" Jase scowled, scampering off the man's lap and hurrying off the wagon to chase after the wheel. "Better hope it didn't break too badly!" he got the wooden wheel out of the ditch and examined it, "Cracked…we'll have to replace it as soon as we reach a town."

Undertaker cringed inwardly. He hated to be scolded, but he could never find fault with his companion's reasons for it. He could be a bit childish at times-a habit he took up when he began to look for things to laugh about, long ago.

"Sorry, pet. I can give it a good patch, 'till then."

He took the wheel from Jase and smiled sheepishly. He probably wasn't going to get many cuddles tonight...and he'd been making some progress with that, too. He felt like a starving man getting thrown a cracker, every time Jase shyly touched his body or allowed him to do the same.

"Nicely done," grumbled the reaper to himself as he carried the wheel away to work on it. "You've set the courtship back another notch."

The Frenchman sighed and retrieved his carving tools, sitting down off the side of the road on a large rock as he continued to work on the project he had started back in London with the larger bit of wood he had gotten. He worked slowly on it, when he was alone, mostly, or otherwise, when Undertaker had grown busy with his own tasks. And now, it was nearly finished as he worked his finer tipped tools in carving out the details.

Jase smiled as he worked, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as it normally did while he worked on his craft (Though he was completely unaware of the habit). The piece—ultimately a small box—was a gift, and it showed the progression of his feelings for it's recipient through the time he'd worked on it. He's originally intended it to be a gift of thanks to Undertaker, a simple thanks. He'd shaped the box to be that of a coffin—why? Because the man seemed to love coffins. As he'd gotten to know the man, he carved it more—personalizing it with skulls around the sides of the coffin, having not yet touched the lid. And as his feelings turned from friendship to more of love and affection, he'd started carving roses atop the coffin-box lid, such intricate details he hadn't put in any of the pieces he'd sold. He'd attached the lid with two small hinges, and he finished his project off by carving Chronus' name into the base of the box, signing the bottom with his name. He then paused, and blushing at the idea, he opened it and carefully carved a shallow heart into the inside of the lid, the words ' _Une poupée avec une âme, la mort avec un cœur, un amour au-delà de péché._ ' scrawled within. He blew out the wood shavings and read the words in a whisper, translating them into English; "A Doll with a soul, Death with a heart; a love beyond sin." He closed the box and ran his hands over the carved roses. Now, he only needed to give it to him… He glanced over at the wagon where he knew the reaper was working to repair the wheel he'd driven into a log.

* * *

 

The reaper absently sucked on a bone-shaped biscuit as he used the mallet to hammer the peg into the wheel, and he tried to map out an escape from the kettle of hot water he'd landed himself into.

Sometimes he could charm his way out of such fixes, but other times, he only made it worse with his antics. Undertaker could sense when his companion was in great distress, but that was as far as it went. All other emotions were guesswork, and he preferred it that way.

"Sometimes it would be nice to cheat, though," he mumbled around his baked treat.

"Cheat on what? Fixing wheels? I'm afraid the best cheat on that would be to become a more observant driver." Jase teased as he approached the reaper, looking up at the blue sky from behind his blindfold, "I think when you are finished we should just take lunch here…it is nearly noon, anyway." Of course, he never ate while they were on the road. Meats weren't practical to travel with, but he could sit down with his canteen of water while the reaper ate…and if all went well, he'd get up the nerve to give the reaper his gift.

Undertaker gave a little start, and he lowered his head so that the brim of his hat cast what could be seen of his face beneath the silver fringe in shadow. He was blushing, because he'd once again drifted off into his own world and got caught talking to himself.

"Mm-hmm," he said around his treat. He pulled it out of his mouth out of courtesy to finish speaking. "Lovely idea, my dear. I'll make a little fire and brew us some nettle tea, shall I?"

Jase nodded, walking over and touching the man's shoulder, "You aren't sulking over what happened, are you? I'm sorry for scolding you, but you really should pay attention to the road. The horses don't care if they follow the road or not, you know." He offered the man a small smile.

Undertaker shook his head, silently praying for his cheeks to cool. "Not at all. I'm just concentrating so I don't bugger this wheel up anymore than I already have."

He dared a covert peek up at the doll, barely able to make out his delicately handsome features at this distance, through the veil of his hair.

"So you aren't still cross with me, then?"

"It was an accident, Chronus…given, a stupid one, but one nonetheless. Why would I be cross? I only complained because if the wheel had been seriously damaged, we'd be stranded here." He knelt down and blushed as he slipped his arms around the man, "Do you really think I'd be mad at you for such small things?"

Being the cuddlier he was, Undertaker was naturally distracted by the embrace. He dropped the mallet and half-returned the embrace.

"You've got that French temper underneath the altruistic exterior, love," teased the reaper. "Gotta watch my step with you."

"What? That coffin of yours not the same as it used to be? Lonely?" The Frenchman teased, "Don't like sleeping alone anymore?" he pulled away, "Come on, finish the wheel and I'll set up an area to take lunch."

Undertaker grinned. "You're in danger of domesticating me."

He finished his work on the wheel and he gave it a sharp inspection, before standing up and walking around to the front of the wagon. He patted the horses and he secured the feed bags to the animals before collecting the kettle and filling it sparingly with some of their water supply.

Jase had already started up a small campfire in the clearing. Undertaker joined him and he chatted with him as he prepared the tea and set up the kettle.

"We should reach the next settlement in roughly two day's travel," he said as he squatted down, "and we'll restock our supplies and have a proper bath, while we have that wheel replaced."

Jase nodded and sat back a little further away from the fire, as to preserve his length of time before needing another cold bath, "A proper bath would be nice…a proper bed, too."

Undertaker smirked. They'd done their best to make a comfortable sleeping area inside the wagon with pillows and blankets, but it was a poor substitute for a real bed. The poor dear often awoke with aches and pains.

"When we get settled again, I'll get you a bed with a nice, thick mattress."

He hadn't tried to sleep with Jase since the night before they hit the road, though he would dearly like to hold him close and fall asleep together like that, again. He knew it had to be love, because despite his sexual frustration, just holding him like that and kissing him was fulfilling.

Undertaker lowered his eyes to the kettle and he shrugged casually. "Or, you could just try sleeping with me in the coffin. I might make a comfy bed to lie on; what with my chill and all."

"That thing isn't big enough for two. I'm small, but not that small." Jase said simply, not completely dismissing the idea. "Besides…it was creepy sleeping in that coffin back in London. I'll stick to my stack of blankets."

Undertaker shrugged again, not pushing the issue. He could offer to join him on the blankets, but he thought he'd just get rejected. He sighed without even realizing it. Sometimes it felt like Jase only ever cuddled him to cool off. Sometimes he wondered just what in the hell he was thinking, promising himself to a virgin priest that couldn't seem to decide whether he wanted to kiss him or box his ears.

Undertaker nearly parted his lips to ask Jase if he truly loved him at all, or if he only played nice because he was dependent on him. He looked at him, shook his head and looked onto the crackling tinders again. Uncommonly downcast, he absently poked at the fire with a stick and plopped down on the ground, with one knee bent.

"Tea should be ready soon," he said glumly, "best get the cups for us."

Undertaker decided that love was a dreadful nightmare.

Jase turned to the basket where they kept their small collection of dishes…and where he had the gift hidden, quickly grabbing the two teacups so that the reaper wouldn't be able to peek in. He didn't know why, but he felt nervous about giving the man the gift. "Here…"

Undertaker took them without comment, and he dropped his long sleeve down over his hand to insulate it as he reached for the little iron kettle. He poured Jase's cup first, and he cooled it to an icy temperature out of habit before handing it to him, without looking at him.

Why did his chest hurt? The reaper frowned as he poured his tea, put the kettle down and dug his little box of sugar cubes out of his pocket. He absently dropped three into his drink, put the box away and placed his right hand over his heart.

Jase sipped his cooled tea, seemingly lost in thought, his gaze moving to the basket next to him. If he couldn't give it to him now—then when? And what was the point of carving it if he couldn't give it to the reaper? He couldn't sell it—it was personal. He sighed and set down his cup, pulling out the box, keeping his back to the reaper to block his view as he spoke, "Chronus…I…I want you to have this!" he blushed turning around and holding out the box, freezing in place as he awaited the man's reaction to his outburst.

Undertaker blinked in surprise. He looked at the object Jase held out to him, and then up at him. The doll stood perfectly still, and it was impossible to tell if his eyes were open or shut, beneath the blindfold. The cool spring breeze lifted his feathered bangs a bit, revealing for a moment the pale, fading suture scar across his forehead...the mark of a mad death god, playing with mortality.

Ever the curious one, Undertaker got to his feet and he approached his diminutive, frustrating love for a closer look. He gazed down at the carving in Jase's hands, and he found himself staring in amazement.

He could have sworn he was looking at a real coffin, perhaps designed for a small pet-but with far greater loving care put into its creation than most human coffins. The skulls and roses were so perfectly detailed, he couldn't help but smile with a boyish wonderment.

"This...is for me?"

Jase's blush grew brighter, "I've…been working on it since we left London…as a thank you—originally…but now…" he bit his lip, "I have to apply some stain to it, still, to protect it, but…I wanted to give it to you now…I hope you like it…" staining the wood would require him to leave it out to air dry, and Undertaker would likely see it as they had limited space. So there was no point in trying to keep it hidden that long.

The reaper gently took it from him, turning it over in his hands to examine it. He opened the lid curiously and when he saw the heart and the inscription inside. Taking a moment to translate the words, he felt the odd tightness in his chest go away; to be replaced by a warmth that he was becoming all too familiar with.

"My dear, darling Jase," he whispered, struggling for words. "I really don't know what to say. Mortals have made offerings to me, to plea for their lives or the lives of their loved ones, but this..."

He closed the lid, cradled the treasure against his chest with one hand and cupped the smaller man's chin with his free hand. "Nobody has _ever_ given me a gift, before." He bent over and he kissed him on the lips.

Jase smiled into the kiss, sliding his arms around the reaper as he returned it, " _Je t'aime…_ " he muttered against his lips, finding it easier to admit in his own tongue, "You needn't say anything."

Undertaker combed his nails through Jase's hair, inadvertently loosening a few strands from the ponytail he kept it in. He dropped his hand down to caress his back as he kissed him with passionate, loving ardor, and he forgot about his concerns that the doll didn't reciprocate his feelings.

Unfortunately, he also forgot how close the little campfire was, and he didn't notice when the bottom of his robe brushed against the burning embers.

He was completely lost in the feel of Jas's lips and the glide of their tongues dancing together, until he smelled the smoke.

"Something burning?" Murmured Undertaker huskily against his companion's mouth.

"…Not me…" Jase murmured, He couldn't feel outside temperatures, but his inner temperature he could when he got too hot. He pulled away and caught sight of Undertaker's robes, and gasped, grabbing his teacup of cold tea and yanking the hem of the reaper's robes out of the fire, dousing it with the tea.

Undertaker turned and coughed when he accidentally inhaled some of the smoke coming up from his extinguished robe.

He grinned at his companion, a little embarrassed that he'd nearly caught himself on fire. "My hero."

The Frenchman blushed, "If you are going to wear so many robes and layers, try not to let them drag across the fire." He said simply before kissing him once more.

Undertaker forgot what he was going to say in response to that. The moment his companion's lips met his again he was lost, and some part of him in the back of his mind wondered when he'd become such a hopeless romantic. He held the box close as he put an arm around Jase and returned his kiss.

"Just because I scold you sometimes doesn't mean I don't want to spend time with you…" The short man sighed, leaning against him, "You like to pull back from me when I do so…and you should stop that…if I need my space, I'll tell you."

"Mmm, I'll try to remember that." Undertaker rocked him in his half-embrace for a few moments, before pulling back and offering the box to him. "Hold this for me, would you love? It's a bit warm out for all these layers, actually."

Nodding, the doll took the box and held it carefully, watching the man start to strip out of the first layer. He wore so many; Jase briefly wondered how many layers the man actually had on each day. "How warm is it?" he asked curiously, "It's spring…but it can't be too warm out yet, can it? Springs only just arrived."

"Not too terribly warm," agreed the reaper absently as he shrugged out of his topmost garment. He checked the singed hem of it and he shrugged, figuring it was still serviceable even if it was a little damaged. He folded the garment and draped it over one arm, and as an afterthought, he unbuttoned and shed the thinner garment beneath it. Now clad in only his long button-up shirt, pants and buckle-laden boots, he sighed and enjoyed the feel of the crisp spring breeze.

"That's rather nice," he commented, and he took his hat off to feel that breeze through his hair. He smiled at his companion and held his hand out for the box. "I'll just put that away inside, lovely. I wouldn't want to risk anything happening to it."

Nodding, he handed him the box, "I'll finish it soon…it'll need to sit out to dry for a few days as I do so." He watched the man return to their temporary mobile home to put the box away in a safe place, and he smiled, stretched and lay back in the soft green grass and looking up at the blue sky though his blindfold.

Undertaker bumped his head on the way out, but he was feeling so good he hardly noticed the discomfort. He brought the little cooking pot over to the fire, and he mixed up some porridge to heat up for himself.

"Such a gourmet selection to dine on," he said with a smirk as he replaced the kettle with the pot on the rack. He stirred the ingredients as they warmed up, and he admired the sight of his companion.

Jase wore the grey pants, white lace-up shirt and knee-high boots very well. He looked like a handsome young gypsy, to Undertaker. He could have been asleep in the grass, he looked so relaxed. His rich brown hair stirred in the breeze, the long ponytail lying out to the left side. He had one knee bent lazily, and he raised his hands and put them behind his head to cushion it. The top laces of his shirt were open to reveal a tasteful glimpse of his clavicle and the top of his chest.

It made Undertaker want to ravish him.

The reaper hastily squatted down and adjusted his hanging shirt, to hide the effects of his lusty thoughts of climbing onto that nubile little body and having his way with it.

"I'll try to make this a quick meal," he said. "Nice as this is, we ought to get back on the road again, soon."

The Frenchman hummed a wordless response and rolled onto his side, looking at the reaper, "Nothing says we can't enjoy the day on the road. The driver's bench is still big enough for two."

Undertaker smiled at him. "Indeed, it is."

It was very nice to get confirmation that Jase valued his company. He supposed his insecurities and instinctive urge to try and distance himself each time he got frustrated stemmed from being alone for so long...and from past betrayal.

"Have you ever been here before? France, I mean." Jase asked curiously.

Undertaker began to eat, and he nodded. "I was here for a brief time just a few years ago, in fact. Got to see the Eiffel Tower and eat some lovely food in Paris."

He swallowed his bland bite and sipped his tea. "I once worked with a reaper from the Paris Dispatch, just before the Revolution. Nice chap, he was, but temperamental when you pushed him."

Undertaker winked at him. "A bit like another Frenchman I know."

"And you haven't yet learned not to push a Frenchman?" Jase teased, "Oh dear, are you sure you can handle living here in my home country?"

"We'll, I do have a Frenchman of my very own, to keep me in line."

Undertaker chuckled with amusement and he finished eating his meal. He wiped down the bowl and the pot and he put everything away, before putting out the fire. "Would you like to drive for a bit, Jase?" He asked as he took away the horse's feedbags and put them away.

"Keep you in line? Quite the task, keeping a man like you acting like a proper gentleman." The Doll climbed up onto the bench and took the reins, "And yes, I think it best I do for now. One broken wheel is enough for one trip."

Undertaker laughed outright at that, and he vaulted easily up beside him. On impulse, he collected his hat from the floor of the driver's seat and he dropped it in top of Jase's head. It was a little bit too large, but the reaper found him all too cute in it.

"Onward then, my fine coachman," he encouraged.

"Lord, you have a big head." Jase commented, pushing it back a bit so it wouldn't obscure his vision more than his blindfold already did. He urged the horses forward again and continued along the road. "You can finish writing if you want, now. No logs to worry about."

"I've got a lot of hair to fit under that hat," excused Undertaker with a grin. "Cheeky."

While he didn't really have anything of importance to add to his last journal entry, he did have their route planned out, and he decided to open his journal and flip to the back of it to review everything.

It might shock some people who knew him to find out that Undertaker was actually rather meticulous with his planning, but being unpredictable was a trait that had served him well, so far. Of all the creatures in Heaven, Hell and in between, Jase was the only living one now that really knew him.

"In length, yes, but it is hardly thicker than mine." Jase smiled and leaned against the reaper, "You're a big man, Chronus, compared to me. And very tall. It makes sense your hat is so large on me. I'm small, and often thought of as an underage child. When I first moved to London, the church thought I was a new choirboy."

"Did they?" Undertaker eyed his companion up and down, finding nothing childlike in his frame. He was small, yes, but his body had the lean build of a man. He resisted groping him and he shrugged.

"I guess they don't see too well, then. As darling as I've always found your size since our paths crossed, I never mistook you for a child.

"You are also not human. I'm sure you have seen men and women as short as I before." Jase let out a small snicker, "My father was even shorter. My mother gifted me with a little more height."

"Hmm, maybe there's pixie blood in your family." Undertaker relaxed in his seat and shut his eyes, tilting his head back against the backrest. "If I nod off, just give me a nudge if you need anything."

"Pixies? There's no such thing…is there?" Jase asked. Normally he would have brushed off the comment as a joke, but he had already found that the world was more than just humans, angels and demons.

Undertaker couldn't help but chuckle, and without opening his eyes, he reached out to pat Jase fondly on the knee. "Not that I've ever seen, love, but it wouldn't shock me terribly to discover differently."

* * *

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh! and Xen and I officially started a sequel to this. :3 I came up with a plot idea while writing a little drabble that was prompted by an ask on Jase's Tumblr (Undeaddollboy). :3 And quite a few readers have expressed an interest in the idea of a sequel once this one is done being posted, so we hope you will enjoy it.


	14. Chapter 14

Jase pulled back on the reins to slow the horses, before he turned his attention to Undertaker who was inside the carriage working on something, "We've reached town." He announced, the sounds of the countryside giving way to the louder, busier sounds of the small French city they had finally reached, "Would you like to take over again?"

Knowing how his companion was prone to blacking out around certain types of people, Undertaker finished up with his inventory and he came back out; now wearing a second layer and his signature top hat again.

"You can go lie down inside if you like," offered the reaper as he climbed onto the driver's seat and took the reins. "I'll see if I can find a local butcher first, and then we can see about a replacement wheel."

Jase nodded. Really, he would like to stay out and enjoy his surroundings, but he chose to wait until after he had had something meaty to eat so that he could have more of a chance at enjoying a stroll along the streets. It had been so long since he had been able to speak French to a fellow Frenchman; that hearing the children yelling as they played brought a smile to his face. English was a fine tongue—but French held beauty—a beauty he had missed.

He turned and climbed back, laying down on his make-shift bed.

Undertaker unfolded his map and he navigated the town to the best of his abilities. He stopped along the way and asked for directions. He spotted a craft and hobby shop on the way to the butcher, and he made a note of it.

He went inside quickly when he found the butcher's shop, and he bargained for a few choice cuts of meat. With that done, he moved along to the tack and harness shop at the edge of town. He explained what he wanted to the merchant and he paid him half in advance, before driving just outside of town and setting up to make dinner in a clearing.

Once the food had been prepared, Jase joined the reaper out by the fire and sat next to him to eat, a content smile upon his face, "It feels good to be home, again…"

Undertaker nodded, smiling back. "I'm sure it does, my dear. How long has it been, incidentally?" He blew on the bite of roasted onion, before biting into it.

"Too long…" he said before taking a bite of the Tartare, "…I left France right after Joy wed. Traveled from cathedral to cathedral, country to country. See, I was not like all the other priests in training. They all had been in the church since they were small boys—I had been only fifteen when I discovered the church. Seventeen when I decided to become a man of the cloth. I was treated quite differently and was pushed more to catch up to the other boys my age. Still, I am young for holding the title of priest, but I gained it and was sent to London to become an apprentice preacher until I reached a wiser age. Then, I was told I could return to France…"

Undertaker listened with interest, always happy to learn a bit more about the small man to whom he had become so enamored with.

"Doesn't seem quite fair to me, that they sent you away from your home country to become 'wiser'. Then again, it's an institution that serves the queen. Taking folk away from their homes and loved ones would help indoctrinate them into the English way of thinking without bloodshed."

Undertaker smirked nastily. "Cunning old bitch."

Jase glanced at the reaper, taking another bite, "I didn't have loved ones. There was only Joy, and she was married off and taken away to America, or that was their plan. Besides, if they hadn't sent me to England, then I'd likely be the same blind fool I had been before I died…We would have never met."

"Mmm, there is that," agreed Undertaker, "and none of us are as we began. I still dislike the monarchy and their methods, though."

He held up the bone remains of his roasted lamb chops with a frown, his eyes glinting beneath the gossamer pallor of his bangs. "It's a lot like Dispatch. One department is in charge of everything, and no questions are asked. Do what you're told, without question."

He looked at his companion, vaguely hopeful that he could understand where others could not. "Where you entered your devotion seeking answers," said the reaper with a rueful grin and a tap upon the left temple, "I left mine after finding them."

"I asked questions at first, yes, but the church doesn't like most questions. I fell into ignoring such questions and only taking in what they said to. What they dislike is 'doubt planted within our minds by the devil'." He sighed, leaning back, his ponytail falling off his shoulder and dangling back just above the grass as he looked up at the sky.

Undertaker smirked again, familiar with being discouraged from asking too many questions. He took Jase's wooden plate and his own, and he tossed the remains to the grass for the wildlife, before cleaning up.

He went to Jase's side and he sat down next to him, putting one arm around him. "Seems to me our institutions share a dislike for questions, love. I think we're better off without their 'guidance'."

"I have been putting a lot of thought into such things over the past months…I think that it is the morals the bible teaches that should be followed by every man, woman, and child, that I shall hold true. Things I had held true before I joined the church." He looked up at him, "It doesn't mean things that the church said is wrong, and a sin aren't still…hard for me to accept as being perfectly fine, but I'm trying…" he turned, pressing a small kiss to the man's lips, "You've already showed me there is no evil in this."

The reaper nuzzled his companion affectionately. "I've still got a bit to learn from you."

He looked out at the path leading down the hill. "What do you say we go into town and enjoy a walk, now that we've eaten? The wheel won't be ready 'till morning. We could rent a room and have a proper bath."

Jase reached over and gave his hand a small squeeze, "I'd love a walk." He smiled and stood up, helping Undertaker up as well.

"Then we're off."

Undertaker guided his companion over to the wagon, and he offered him a hand up before joining him and taking the reins. They drove back into town to enjoy a little socializing, before the evening matured.

* * *

 

 

Jase smiled as he stepped to the side as three young boys ran past in a game of sorts, then stepped back in line next to Undertaker, walking just a little closer to him than he had before.

Undertaker watched the kids with bemusement; puzzled as always by the behavior of little ones.

"Did you ever want one of those, love?" He asked his companion curiously, pointing at the children.

"A child?" The doll looked up at the man, and then back at the children, just as they disappeared down an alley, "I've always been fond of them, but have never been in a realistic position to be a father, myself." He looked back up at Undertaker, "I would need a wife, obviously, to have one of my own…I can not adopt, I am not as financially set as is required to do so. Besides, now I'm not human, you have told me I won't age or die—unless I am killed. What right would I have in raising a human child? Watching them grow older than I…passing on into death…"

Undertaker nodded in understanding. "It wouldn't be the most convenient setting for child rearing. I've always found the little nippers fascinating."

He smiled and chuckled as one of said nippers plowed right into him, making him grunt. Undertaker knelt before the startled boy and straightened his cap for him.

"Be a little more careful, tiny chap," he advised in French to the boy-who was staring at him with unabashed curiosity. The reaper smiled again, and he ruffled the child's curls before waving him off.

Undertaker straightened back up and he waved back when the boy and his friends waved at him.

"Children are rarely frightened of me, for some reason."

"Children are more in tune to the world than adults. They are innocent and naive. Adults have let corruption in and they become blind and dependant on mistrust. They see with their eyes, not their hearts. Children are like animals, they can sense things about people buried deep inside. Even if there is something creepy about you, they know you mean them no harm…it is proof that you are a gentle soul, after all." Jase smiled, "The world could learn much from its youth…"

Undertaker covertly steered his companion away from one of the more corrupted adult variety as he spoke, sensing the man's wicked nature, "Pity they can't retain such open minds."

Jase nodded in agreement, "Yet we willingly trade it off for knowledge…What about you? Any thoughts of having a child or two yourself?"

Undertaker shook his head. "Reapers don't make babies. Those of us that weren't formed from nothing were chosen upon death to become Shinigami."

He looked at a young couple across the street, who were pushing a baby stroller. "Can't say as I'd make a good father, since I'm like a big kid myself, half the time."

He grinned at his companion, and he admired the way the setting sun cast Jase's features in orange-ish light.

"It doesn't mean you haven't wished you could be a father." The former priest pointed out, "And it doesn't mean you have never been fond of a child…you talk sometimes in your sleep… the first time, you were complaining about a 'foolish' child…Ciel, I think was his name, and how you wanted to take care of him…"

Undertaker sobered. It had been a very long time since he'd had anyone sleeping close enough to him to tell that he spoke in his sleep.

"Ah yes," he sighed. "The little Earl. Such a pity I can't free him from the contract he foolishly made with that demon."

Thunder rumbled in the distance, as if sensing his suddenly pensive mood. Undertaker absently looked to the south, where ominous clouds were beginning to roll in.

"I thought if I could reap Michaelis, I could save the lad's soul. Demons aren't so easily slain, though."

He smirked. "Sebastian is a likeable enough fellow. Charming, handsome sort. I really have nothing against him, save for his claim on Ciel Phantomhive's soul."

Jase remained silent, not knowing what to think on the subject of demons, anymore. Were they really as bad as he'd been lead to believe? Angels turned out to be quite different, after all.

Undertaker put an arm around him as the sky darkened with the approaching storm and the promise of night. "Well, Ciel's soul is not mine to protect," he sighed. "He made his choice. Come, we should get back to the wagon and park it on the outskirts, before the storm reaches us. I'm afraid a proper bath will have to wait until tomorrow. We'll make due with a bowl of warm water and soap, tonight."

Jase blushed, "You just want to see me strip down in front of you again, rather than take a private bath when we rent a room." He accused. Last time he had sponged himself clean on their travels, he had caught the reaper peeking in on him. And with the storm rolling in, without a room, they would be stuck inside their wagon together.

Undertaker winked playfully. "I'll do my best to control myself, sweetness. We'll keep our backs to each other, if you like."

It was on the tip of his tongue to remind the young man that he'd seen the entirety of his lovely, lithe body more than once already, when he first took him into his care. Undertaker refrained, however, knowing that too much teasing might convince the shy, virginal Frenchman that stinking was preferable to bathing in his presence.

"I promise, tomorrow we will find a proper Inn and enjoy a good bath."

He gave the smaller man a gentle squeeze.

"…We may be soaked by the time we walk back, anyway…" Jase commented as cold drops of spring rain began to pepper the ground and their shoulders, other pedestrians all picking up speed to hurry along to shelter.

They made it to the wagon and the reaper tried to usher his companion inside. When Jase insisted on sitting up front with him, he shrugged. The rain likely felt good on Jase's unnaturally warm skin.

He snapped the reins to set the horses into motion, and he drove the carriage up the hill and out of town. He parked it beneath an expansive oak tree to give the horses some measure of shelter, and he secured the reins tightly to a branch to keep the animals from bolting if the thunder spooked them, and he patted Jase and motioned him inside.

"After you, my dear."

The Doll slipped inside without protest, and readied a bit of rope along the back of the wagon to use as a laundry line so that their soaked clothes could dry properly. He then started to strip out of his shirt, hanging it up and exposing his torso to the air. His wet hair clinging to his back and shoulders after he let it down free of the blue ribbon he always used to hold it back.

Undertaker likewise began to strip out of his layers, and true to his word, he politely turned his back to the doll as he exposed his moon-pale torso and lit the lantern hanging from the ceiling. The faded scars making his body stretched with his motions as he fetched the tin pail, the soap and the washrags from the chest near his coffin. He poured some water from the full skin into the pail, and he decided not to warm the water after all.

The reaper gathered up his long, flowing hair and he twisted it up, doubling it up and tying it back as he nudged the pale between them, so that Jase could reach it.

"I think you'll like our new home," he enthused, more to distract himself from the temptation to turn around than for any real conversational value. "I've no idea what condition the cottage will be in, but I hear the countryside is beautiful."

He squeezed out his washrag and he soaped it up, before he began to wash his shoulders.

Jase finished stripping down, hanging his clothes and grabbing a cloth to clean himself with, "…How long will we be able to stay there?"

Undertaker shrugged, and he began to bathe his chest. "For as long as we can. Until I begin to see signs that my former associates are closing in on us, again. He turned, briefly forgetting his promise not to look at him. He wasn't smiling as he gazed into the doll's unusual blue eyes.

"I have precious little left to protect, but I will be reaped before I allow any harm to come to you."

Undertaker lowered his gaze, faintly embarrassed by his own passionate declaration. His pale cheeks gained a hint of color at his dollie's stare.

"I'd rather you run…" Jase held his gaze, "with me—together. Even if it means we can never truly have a home, and live on the road as we have these past weeks…"

He'd promised not to act like an old pervert, but Undertaker found it exceedingly difficult to resist his companion's earnest, trusting expression. He made himself look away, before his desire for Jase got the better of him.

"Keep that up and I'll have to kiss you, my love."

"And how long…" Jase stated, reaching out and cupping the man's cheek, "…has it been since I have denied you a kiss in private?" he twisted his torso and leaned in, pressing his lips to the reaper's briefly.

Undertaker pulled away, his breath catching with desire. "Forgive me, love, but I can't. Not right now...not if I'm to be a gentleman."

Jase had no basis for comparison, being an innocent. He literally didn't know what he was missing; but Undertaker recalled what lovemaking felt like with vivid clarity, at times like this. The feel of an eager young body writhing beneath him, the expression of pleasure and wonderment as he eased into their body, the gasps and cries as he began to thrust...

Undertaker rapidly hardened in his pants, and he turned away from his companion, lest he see the evidence of what his innocent little kiss had done to him.

Jase lowered his gaze, biting lightly on his lip. He wasn't used to being told no. It was so often him saying no, and he couldn't tell what he had done wrong. Undertaker was usually so clingy, taking any and all kisses he could get from Jase. It didn't occur to him that the man was nearly naked—as was he.

Aching with desire, Undertaker made it a point to keep his scarred back to the former priest as he resumed his 'cat's bath'. He started to babble nonsense as he cleaned off the travel dust, unaware of his companion's confused hurt in his own angst of lust.

"You've been learning so well," he said in reference to his tutoring of Jase's anatomy knowledge, "perhaps if I return to the mortician business someday, you can be a true partner to me."

His groin was still in a damnable state of excitement, and he silently prayed for it to calm down.

Jase said nothing, quickly cleaning himself and getting up, grabbing his pajamas and pulling them on before moving over to his make-shift bed, laying down across it and looking up at the ceiling.

Undertaker knew he'd again managed to do something wrong, but damned if he knew what. Jase's silence was like punishment, and he sighed as he finished up. Still bare-chested, he rounded on the doll-or at least, he tried to. The wagon only had so much head room, after all, and much of the interior space was taken up by their personal belongings.

"Now see here," began the reaper, "I wasn't tuning down your-"

He didn't get the chance to explain why he'd so abruptly withdrawn, because he hit his head on the beam overhead and he tripped on Jase's blankets as he slapped a hand over his smarting head.

The Undertaker: Legendary God of Death, sprawled gracelessly on top of his companion's body- stricken by clumsiness like any common mortal.

"Careful!" Jase gasped, reaching up to catch Undertaker, his hands finding his shoulders and cushioning his fall ever-so-slightly, but not enough as the man still collapsed completely onto him. "Chronus…are you okay?"

Thrown by the sound of his new name, Jase's gasp and the feel of his body beneath him, Undertaker was treated to another moment of shocking bewilderment, "I...oh dear me, I seem to have forgotten my brain."

He could feel Jase's body reacting beneath his own, and he unconsciously ground his arousal against the doll's. He slowly lowered his mouth to Jase's and he spoke in a soft, husky murmur as the thunder boomed outside.

"I honestly couldn't have planned that fall better if I'd tried. Sorry, my dear."

Jase flushed, gasping again, a bit more airy as the man above him rubbed their bodies together. He lowered his hands, trailing his fingers down the reaper's muscular arms, and losing himself in those beautiful golden-green eyes. Suddenly, he wanted more, not just the kiss he'd been denied moments before. He didn't quite understand it, or why. He just knew that had he been wearing pants, they would suddenly feel too tight on him, and a fire flared up within his center—not the holy fire that constantly burned, keeping him physically hot and in need of icy baths, no. this was completely different, and he hadn't felt the likes of it before.

Maybe it was lust? He wasn't nave. He had heard many men talking about their 'burning' desires for this woman or that. Their wives, girlfriends, fiancés, crushes…random women they see upon the streets. He'd heard their confessions of lustful thoughts and feelings. Some men acted upon them, others had not, but all referred to it as a passionate fire within, a yearning for whichever woman had caught their attention and affections. And really, how different was this? He truly did hold an ever-deepening affection for the reaper.

But how could he share these thoughts? Confessing in a church to a man of the Lord was one thing…confessing to the cause of these thoughts was truly another.

The Doll's lips parted and he urged himself to attempt to convey these things, however, only one word seemed to slip out; "Hot…"

"Yes, gasped Undertaker helplessly in agreement. "Far too hot, love."

He kissed him, and he instinctively manifested the chill of the grave to cool him. He rubbed against him, his hand tracing down Jase's hip.

"I'll take care of you, my dear," promised the reaper, even as he struggled with his need.

At first, he had thought his point had been lost upon the reaper, feeling the deathly cold chill sweep over him, but then, when the man's fingers traced his hip, he felt an actual shiver rack his body, and his eyes closed, his arms enclosing around Undertaker's torso, pulling their bodies closer, and his lips seeking out more of the reaper's kisses.

He was lost. The ambrosia of Jase's mouth against his destroyed what remained of Undertaker's self control. He drank deeply from it, groaning against his lips, "Love...you taste...you feel so..."

One hand found its way up into Undertaker's hair—still damp with rainwater—and Jase's fingers entangled themselves within the silky locks. His lips moved, fueled by greed as they kissed and suckled the reaper's skin; lips, jaw, neck, shoulders…wherever they could reach at any given moment. Whatever had gotten into the former priest was relentless, urging him on, letting him forget about everything—everything but the god of death pinning him down to his bed.

It was more than he'd ever expected, and it was consuming. Undertaker slid his hand over Jase's stomach, and he murmured loving encouragement all the while. He traced the little navel with his nails, and he smiled gently down at him. "I think I've never loved anything, before I met you."

"Neither have I… Not like this…" Jase whispered back, reaching up and tugging the reaper's hair free of the quick bun it had been pulled into, watching the silvery locks fall down around them, hiding them both from the world.

Fueled beyond reason, the reaper's passion took over and he began to kiss his way down Jase's throat. His lips sucked gently at the soft skin and he trembled in spite of himself with his need.

"Jase," gasped the reaper, "oh, my love."

The Doll pressed a finger to the other's lips, shushing him before covering them again with his own. Not because he didn't want to hear the reaper's words, but because he wanted to feel those lips moving against his own, "… _Je t'aime_ …" he moaned into the kiss.

Undertaker would have returned the endearment, if his mouth weren't claimed by the passionate kiss. He rocked against his companion, breath quickening with growing excitement. He should stop this, while he still possessed enough sense to. He wanted Jase so badly; more than he'd ever wanted any living soul before...but he'd made a promise to him. Only when Jase asked for it would he make him his.

"Jase, love," he gasped against his lips, "I'm as weak as any mortal man, against my passion. How far are you willing to go tonight?"

He ground the evidence of his desire against him, emphasizing his need. The smaller man's hardened groin pressed against his thigh, and the temptation to slip a hand into his pajamas to fondle him was difficult to resist.

Jase looked up at him, feeling lost. What did he mean 'how far'? Did it matter?

"Chronus…I want you…" he moaned, pressing up against him and reaching up to cup his face, "More than anything…I want to be yours…"

That was all he needed to hear. Undertaker claimed the doll's lips again, and he deftly began to flick open the buttons of Jase's top, and he gently ran his fingernails over his fair, soft skin when he bore his chest. His lips trailed over the doll's jaw and throat.

"I've longed for this moment," purred the reaper huskily, rubbing his body against the smaller man's as he began to explore him in ways he'd never done before. He muffled Jase's gasp with a kiss when he tweaked and fondled a nipple to hardness. He intended to give his love as much pleasure as he could, before he took him.

"I'll be gentle with you, my dear," he vowed, and he began to kiss his way down his chest.

The Frenchman bit his lip and nodded, shrugging out of his shirt and watching as the reaper moved down his body. His breath deepened and he ran his fingers through white hair, a bit unsure of himself. He didn't know anything, and Chronus did…he was experienced. What if he was a disappointment?

Undertaker took his time, tracing both nipples with his tongue before closing his lips around one of them. He sucked lightly on the taut bud, flicking his tongue against it. He throbbed with need as Jase arched his back and squirmed fitfully, and he released his nipple to give the same attention to the other one.

While he pleasured it, he slipped a hand down to cup Jase's groin. Mindful of his inexperience with being handled this way, the reaper took it slowly at first, gently kneading and massaging the stiffened shaft of Jase's erection through his loose pants.

"Ahh!" Jase gasped, his hips giving a small roll, pressing up against Undertaker's hand; it was good…he seemed more sensitive to Undertaker's touches than his own. Yes, he was a man of the cloth—or had been—but he was a man, and there was no mention that a man of any sort could not touch himself.

Encouraged by the responses he was getting, the reaper murmured soft endearments against his companion's skin, in both English and French. He worshipped the small, lean body underneath him, taking a fierce joy in each gasp and moan he invoked. He guided Jase's motions subtly, encouraging his hesitant gyrations. He left off teasing his nipples for a bit and he kissed the doll's throat, his white teeth lightly grazing the skin.

"So lovely," he breathed, nibbling the young man's ear between words. Jase's flush of passion made him even more irresistible to the reaper. "And you're all mine."

He smiled down at him, but his possessive tone was completely in earnest. He'd never had anyone that was all his own, before. He'd never wanted the commitment before, but this was an exception.

"Uhhn…" Jase shifted, pushing himself up to gingerly nibble on his lover's ear, "And you are mine…"

"Absolutely," agreed Undertaker without hesitation.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Jase's strong little teeth nibbling his ear. His hips settled between the doll's thighs and he supported his weight on one arm to lift up a bit. He stopped fondling him briefly to ease his hand into his pants, and he kissed him deeply as he gripped his erection, flesh on flesh.

"Mmuh!" Jase closed his eyes, his heart rate quickening, and his gut tightening. Slowly, he trailed his fingertips down over pale, pigmentless flesh until they hooked in the waist of Undertaker's slacks, halting their movement as he opened his eyes to search his lover's.

Seeing the question in his eyes, Undertaker smiled encouragingly. He gave Jase's length a loving stroke and he lowered his head for a kiss.

"Touch me, darling," whispered the reaper between soft kisses. "Please."

Jase connected their lips once more in a kiss, his hands guiding the reaper's slacks down, exposing his rear—and with it, his manhood. Jase's blush brightened further, but he pushed aside the seed of shyness as he ran his hands over his lover's hips, memorizing the feel of his skin, and the curves of his form.

Undertaker's kisses became more arduous as his gentle young lover began to familiarize himself with his body. Mindful of where these activities were going to lead them, the reaper put into practice an ability that he hadn't needed nor thought of to use for reasons beyond making gloves fit his hands more easily, for years. He retracted his long, black fingernails, drawing them back in so that he could touch Jase everywhere, without accidentally jabbing or scratching him.

He nibbled the doll's parted lips and he stroked his swollen length a little faster, swallowing his trembling gasps of pleasure greedily.

Jase was lost to the pleasures his lover was bestowing upon him—but not lost enough not to take notice of the man's nails growing shorter so suddenly. He'd felt it. The talons scraping his sensitive skin as they disappeared, and he glanced down at the man's hand about his length. "…You're like a cat…" he murmured out loud.

Undertaker chuckled and he rubbed his nose against the doll's affectionately. "Meow."

"…You're lucky I like cats…" Jase teased, smiling as he captured his lips, hands sliding over Undertaker's perfectly rounded posterior.

The reaper kissed him back, and a low moan of need vibrated in his throat. He tugged Jase's pants down to fully expose him, and he rubbed his own stiffened member against his. The dew of arousal that had formed on the flushed cap of his sex smeared between the velvety length of their erections, and undertaker started to kiss his way down again.

He licked and sucked gently at the skin of his dollie's throat, and he brushed his thumb over the tender head of his shaft, lubricating the tip with the natural fluids beading up on it.

He made his way down steadily, kissing his chest and teasing his nipples in passing, and he felt the young man tremble when he circled his navel with the tip of his tongue.

"I want to taste you, love," announced the reaper in a sensual murmur.

"You…you already are…" Jase breathed, finding it near impossible to stay still.

Undertaker couldn't help but smile with adoration at his naive proclamation, and he decided that a demonstration of his meaning was better than mere words.

He laid one long hand flat over the doll's lower abdomen to try and keep him from bucking, and he squirmed lower. Gripping the base of his erection, he lowered his mouth to the damp, flushed tip and he slid his lips over it.

A clash of thunder outside drowned out the Frenchman's shocked cry as Undertaker began to take his length onto his mouth, suckling firmly as he went.

"Oh, G-God!" Jase dropped himself down onto the blankets of his bed, gasping and squirming from the wet pressure that formed around his member. "C-Chronus! Th-that—nnh…" The doll's fingers curled tight in the reaper's hair, gripping the locks firmly at the roots.

Undertaker bore the discomfort of having his hair pulled so tightly with stoicism born of love. He licked the salty slit in the head of Jase's cock, reveling in the way he began to writhe and call out in a blend of French and English.

He tightly sealed his lips around the girth of his little love's arousal, and he began to suck him off with enthusiasm. He withdrew and he flicked his tongue against the sensitive tip, before lowering his head and sucking the length deep, relaxing his throat muscles to accommodate him.

"Hahh! _Non! S'il vous plaît!_ Too much! _Trop bon!_ Chronus..!" Jase moaned and writhed, toes curling and knees bending repeatedly, his bare leg sliding along Undertaker's side.

He very nearly gave into his companion's pleas and stopped, but the doll's helpless cries were full of pleasure, and Undertaker sensed he was rapidly approaching climax. He ruthlessly held him down and continued his lips, tongue and mouth working with passionate skill to bring the Frenchman to greater heights of bliss.

His heart swelled with love, even as his throbbing member twitched with need. It was probably a good thing that Jase hadn't gotten around to reciprocating his attentions, yet. Every gasping, panting, pleading cry he evoked from those delectable lips made the reaper's stomach clench with excitement. The last thing he or Jase needed now was for him to get careless in his lust and hurt him.

He kept going until he felt Jase's balls tightening up in his palm, and then he released him from his mouth, stretched out on top of him and kissed him hard while stroking him off.

"That's it, love," gasped Undertaker after ravishing his lips for a moment. "Come for me. Just let it happen."

"Je—Je— _jehaah_ -ahh!" Jase screamed out, body going rigid as he hugged himself tight to the reaper's form. He twitched as his seed spilled over between their bodies, pent-up pressure and heat spilling forth into Undertaker's persuasive hand. Panting lightly once he was done; the Frenchman collapsed, looking up at Undertaker with parted, but wordless lips; "Ah-hh…"

Undertaker smiled down at him, enraptured with the way he looked in the afterglow of an orgasm.

"Oh, I did enjoy doing that to you," he confessed, his tone heavy with desire.

He lightly kissed the slack, gasping mouth, and he made creative use of the doll's libation. The creamy, slippery fluid made a perfect natural lubricant, and he applied it liberally to the first two fingers of his right hand.

There is more yet to come, you lovely thing," promised Undertaker with a kiss, and he gently pressed the tip of a finger against the tight little pucker beneath Jase's groin.

"M-more..?" Jase had to take a moment to think over the meaning of the word, and then his cheeks regained their red hue, "' _Plus', comment? Ah! Tu veux dir_ e..." feeling a thin, boney finger rub and prod at his entrance, it all came crashing down into his mind what the reaper meant.

To say he wasn't nervous—or even a little scared would be a blatant lie. But, when he looked up into the Englishman's eyes, he couldn't help but relax.

Pleased with his responses, Undertaker kissed him again, and he took great care not to force his entrance. He supposed he was selfish to insist on having him tonight. He knew how uncomfortable it could be accepting someone into your body for the first time.

Jase's apparent trust in him and his lack of protest meant the world to the ancient. "I love you," he whispered against his lips, pressing deeper to seek out the spongy lump inside of him that could make this experience so much nicer, with the right stimulation.

He found it, and he kissed Jase's jaw and cheek as he gently stroked it with his finger. "I'll never hurt you," he promised as he elicited a surprised little gasp from him. He kissed him again, and he took his time with him, relaxing his entrance as much as possible before easing the second finger inside.

This wasn't natural…it couldn't be…men's bodies weren't made for this sort of treatment. It felt so strange! And yet…pleasurable. Jase couldn't hide the gasps slipping past his lips with each twist and prod those wonderful long fingers gave as they scissored and stretched his entrance.

Determined to make it good for him, Undertaker lavished attention on the doll's body. He gasped encouragingly to him as Jase began to gingerly follow the impulses his body was sending to him, lifting his hips with each careful, gentle push of the reaper's fingers.

Undertaker could tell by the way Jase moved that with a bit of time and experience, he would easily become a fantastic lover. Innocence and shyness aside, the man seemed to have a natural sensuality.

Jase's body moved on it's own, hips rolling up, torso twisting so that he was half on his side, and legs squeezing Undertaker's hips. "Ahmmm!" he shoved his face into his pillow and cried out.

It was sweet torture to wait, but Undertaker didn't stop his careful ministrations until he was quite certain that Jase could take him without excessive discomfort.

He kissed his face, his lips and his throat as he exercised his passage, and the Frenchman was beginning to get hard again from the stimulation, by the time Undertaker was satisfied. He was so desperate to be with him at last that he didn't bother removing his boots. Undertaker tugged his pants down to his knees and he parted his companion's thighs further as he settled his hips between them. He used the remaining seed from Jase's earlier orgasm to lubricate his member for the act.

"Here I come, lovely," advised the reaper softly, and he positioned himself. He pressed the tip against his entrance, and he embraced him as he began to carefully breach him.

"Kgahh!" Jase cried out, pain mixing with pleasure—but not overpowering it as he became his lover's sheath, stretching intimately around him. Tears sprang to the Frenchman's eyes, but he hugged his lover close, panting into his shoulder.

Undertaker kissed his tears away and went still over him, pausing half-sheathed inside of him. So tight, despite the care he'd taken to stretch him.

"It will ease up as your body adjusts," he promised between kisses. He felt a little bad for the discomfort Jase was surely experiencing, but it was so heavenly to be inside of him, the guilt faded away in his passion.

He caressed and kissed his lover's trembling body, holding still within him until the tension began to ease. Undertaker looked down at Jase, his pale, shaped brows furrowed a bit with the strain of resisting his urges to move.

"How is it now, my dear?" He asked in a shaken, husky voice.

"… _étrange_ …" Jase gasped, he pulled back, gazing up at his lover, "B-but not…bad…" he stumbled over his English words, almost forgetting how to speak the language.

Undertaker withdrew slowly and he watched his companion's face as he eased back in, driving his length deeper, this time. His breath caught with the pleasure of feeling Jase's snug warmth fitting so wonderfully around him.

"Unh," he panted, nearly overcome for a moment. It really had been a long time since he'd taken a lover, and all the experience in the world didn't seem enough to prepare him for this ecstasy.

"Ahn-ahh!" The brunet gasped at the movement, his length standing tall once more and twitching as he hugged his lover, the muscles in Undertaker's back flexing under his hands.

The reaper smiled down at him, and he balanced on one arm as he kissed him again. He slipped his free hand down to pet the hardened staff of his arousal as he retreated from his body again, only to come back deeper.

Groaning with delight, Undertaker knew Jase had adjusted when he sheathed himself completely and the doll clung to him, every part of his body seeming to beg for more.

He was all too happy to oblige him. He began to pump his hips; slowly at first as to not overwhelm either of them. He gasped his companion's name and he stroked his shaft, massaging it from root to tip as he began to take him in earnest.

Jase whimpered and moaned with each long thrust deep into his heat. His legs wrapped around the reaper's waist, his hips tilting into the man's movements, and his heart hammering within his chest. The Doll's body felt as if it was on overload. It didn't seem right that something like this could feel so good.

Excited by his responses, Undertaker echoed Jase's moans. His hips snapped faster and he released the doll's length to take his hands. His fingers entwined with Jase's and he kissed him demandingly, feeling his peak approaching closer with each thrust.

"Oh gods, love," he groaned into his mouth. He tasted like honey and cloves, to him. Undertaker fenced with his tongue and he squeezed his hands, moving a little harder.

"Ahh-ah-GAH!" The Doll cried into his lover's mouth, writhing, unable to still his movements. His cries mounted into screams, his tongue unable to be silenced until his voice cracked, body stiffening, and one last scream found it's way out with sound as he came to sweet release for a second time, though his load was far less as it coated his flexed abs. "CHRONUS!"

The reaper swore he'd never heard a sweeter sound in his life. He buried his face against Jase's shoulder as the waves of lust drove him beyond reason. He pumped harder, faster, and his groin began to tighten with his impending orgasm.

Undertaker heard himself yelling his companion's name and he drove deep into him, one last time. He reared his head back and he stared down at Jase's flushed, dazed face with an almost pained expression. The wave broke over him then, making his body shudder helplessly as he bucked inside of Jase and filled him with his seed.

Lips parted, eyes blank, the reaper looked somewhat like a doll himself, in his completion. He trembled as it tapered off, and his eyes drifted shut.

"Ah, my Jase," he sighed at last, smiling.

The Doll's panting slowed, and he relaxed into the bed, mouth left agape to let the little puffs of air through.

And then the realization of what they had just done swept over him as the effects of their shared orgasm started to fade, and his eyes widened. If his face wasn't already flushed, it would have done so. He'd given this man his innocence. Something he'd never have again—and it was emotional. His heart pounded with excitement, but that voice in the back of his head left from the Church's teachings, scolded and condemned him.

Undertaker planted soft, sated kisses over the doll's face and neck, sighing in contentment. Perhaps it had just been so long since his last sexual encounter that his memory was tricking him, but he couldn't recall ever having such a passionate experience, before. Unless his dollie was a superb actor, Jase enjoyed it every bit as much as he had.

"And it will only get better," he murmured with certainty; half to himself and half to his companion. Jase already demonstrated marvelous sensual instincts. Undertaker smiled at the thought of teaching him more, eventually.

"Are you sore, lovely?"

Jase shook his head, still unable to use his tired voice. Yet, there was nothing to say he wouldn't be sore later. The thought hardly crossed his mind, though as he curled up against his lover's exposed and sweaty form.

Undertaker gently withdrew from him, and he rolled onto his side. Feeling the heat of Jase's body and his own sweat, he lowered the temperature around them and he held Jase close, stroking his hair.

Now that his thoughts had quieted, he could hear the patter of the rain against the roof of the wagon. The thunder rumbled and the overhead lantern swayed a bit.

"Thank you," blurted the reaper, realizing that Jase probably had a bundle of feelings to sort out. He nuzzled his hair and he shut his eyes. "Really. Thank you for trusting me enough to let that happen."

Jase slowly turned his head up to look at the reaper, rather than hide in his chest. He brought himself up, kissing his lips, "Y-you aren't…disappointed in me?" He wouldn't be able to stand it if he'd given himself in such a way to the reaper only to disappoint the man…given into the deadly sin of lust, only to be discovered unwanted. His lip quivered at the thought, a tear stinging his eye.

Undertaker couldn't hide his surprise at the question, and his brows went up. "Disappointed? Why that's..."

He was going to say 'absurd', but he saw the vulnerability in his lover's unusual gaze, and his expression softened. Now wasn't the time to make cracks or scoff. Sometimes he really took his own experience for granted.

"No, my dear," he assured him, caressing his face. "You didn't disappoint me. Far from it. You were with me the whole time; making love to me as I made love to you. True passion, sharing and consideration is what really makes sex special, not the mechanics."

He rubbed his back and cuddled him. "Best night I've had in ages, darlin'. Honestly."

Jase's worried gaze softened, and he rested his head on Undertaker's chest, a light, fluttery feeling filling his chest as he inhaled his lover's scent. "…I'm glad…" he whispered, "… _Je t'aime_…"

"I love you too," answered the reaper with a smile. He felt some relief that the doll wasn't withdrawing from him. That was the one thing he'd feared; that Jase would regret it when it was over. He just hoped he would feel the same in the morning.

* * *

To be continued...


	15. Chapter 15

The morning came quickly, the sounds of birds singing in the trees, the horses outside their wagon snorting as they ate their grass, rain drops still dripping from the leaves where they had gathered during the storm…and a pained groan from the small Frenchman lying upon his bed in Undertaker's arms as he slowly awoke and became aware of the odd pain in his rear.

Why was that? It was such a strange place to be in pain… and…was he naked?

Oh… _oh_.

The night before suddenly came whirling back into his mind, making him feel slightly dizzy, though he was still lying down.

Undertaker instinctively reached out for Jase in his sleep when he felt him pull away. He embraced him again and pulled him close with a little sigh. His nails had elongated again as he slept, and they glided gently over the doll's skin as he caressed his back.

Jase relaxed in his arms, having no desire to leave the comforting and needful embrace, and moving only made the pain increase. So, he did what early risers hardly ever did; stayed in bed, rolling over and hugging the reaper.

After a while, Undertaker stirred and he opened his eyes to look at his lover, the pale silk of his lashes fluttering. He smiled in greeting when he saw he was awake. He rubbed his back and he kissed his scarred forehead, his nose and his lips.

"Morning, sunshine," he yawned. "I hope I didn't smother you too much with my cuddle habits."

"If you did, I hadn't noticed." Jase sighed, and then looked up at him, "…Does it always hurt like this—after..?"

Undertaker slid a hand down to rub the doll's smooth, firm little bottom. "Bum's a bit sore today, is it?" He gave him a tender little kiss on the lips. "I thought it might be, and I'm sorry for that. Eventually your body gets used to it, and you can take it with nary an ache to show for it in the morning. For now, though..."

He got up and he pulled his pants up, forced to hunch over to avoid hitting his head on the wagon ceiling. "I'll fix you up a soothing poultice to put in your knickers, until I can find us an Inn. I'll draw you a nice bath with some herbal soak, and you can relax in that while I retrieve our replacement wheel and get you something nice and bloody to eat."

The reaper grinned at his companion's blush when he found him staring. He chose not to call attention to it as he fastened his pants and he reached for his long shirt and robe.

"How does that sound, love? A nice bath, a change of clean clothes, a good meal and a soft, clean bed."

Jase nodded with a small smile, "Sounds good…" he pulled a sheet up to cover himself, still being a modest man, and he tried to forget the pain and uncomfortable throbbing sensation in his once virginal entrance. "Could…you pass me a pair of slacks and a shirt, please?"

Undertaker took pity on him and practiced some gentlemanly behavior. He retrieved the requested items, and he handed them over to him before turning his back to get his apothecary kit out of his trunk.

"Don't you worry, my dear; your Chronus will take good care of you and have you feeling better soon," he promised as he gathered what he needed for the poultice.

"I've got some aspirin you can take as well...just tell me when I can turn around to give it to you."

Jase dressed quickly, though it was a little difficult slipping into his slacks, "Okay." He granted the reaper permission to turn back around as he grabbed a brush and started to work on the rat's nest that their activities together before bed had made of his long hair.

Undertaker—while having discovered his romantic heart—still lacked social graces and subtlety when it came to speaking his mind. He turned and smiled at the young man, holding a couple of aspirin in one hand and an herb-soaked compress in the other, and his mouth just repeated his mental puns before he could even begin to censor himself.

"Here, put these in your mouth and stuff the other down your pants for your bum. Just don't mix them up, or your arse will be worse off for it."

Jase's face flushed deeply, "I…I think I know the difference!" he protested, reaching for his canteen and the pills to take them quickly.

Undertaker blushed, and he blurted a self-remonstration a second later. "Goddamn it, old fool." He slapped a black-nailed hand over his own mouth. Between his candor and his swearing, he was getting off to a fine start of the day with his sweetheart.

Jase's eyes widened, and he swallowed thickly. "Taking…the Lord's name in vain…I…admit that still surprised me…" he muttered, and then pushed himself up with a pained grunt, "But…it doesn't much matter…does it?"

"I don't suppose it does," said Undertaker with some relief, having expected a scalding lecture. "Still, I beg your pardon. That was crass of me, and I'm afraid I still run off at the mouth, from time to time."

He made for the side exit, which was easier for him to use without bumping his head. "Just relax in here, while I drive us into town. You probably don't want to sit on your...sore spot...right now."

There were other words he could have used for Jase's bottom, but the reaper had flustered himself and he was trying to avoid any further vulgarity use. Being a gentleman wasn't easy, after being alone for so long.

Nodding, the Doll situated himself near the front of the wagon so that he could still talk to the man through the small sliding window designed for such use. He slid the wooden panel open and looked out, watching as the horses were moved into position, "You needn't try so hard…I'm trying to be understanding…you come from a very different world than I do…"

Undertaker cast a grin and a wink over his shoulder at him. "Never had a reason to curb my tongue before, love. How about we agree that I'll try to watch my mouth, and you keep trying to be understanding when I slip up."

"Sounds a fair compromise." Jase agreed, reaching out through the small window to run his fingers through the reaper's hair once he had settled himself on the driving bench.

Undertaker started to make a crack about distracting the driver, but Jase's touch felt so good. He relaxed in the driver seat and he leaned back a little, allowing his lover to comb some of the tangles from his hair.

"Feels nice," he murmured, driving down the hill. "We'll have to give both our heads a proper brush and a wash, when we get our room."

It seemed the Frenchman had discovered his weakness; having his hair brushed or combed.

"That's only because you didn't brush your hair…I brushed mine. Mine only needs the wash." Jase teased lightly as he rested his chin on the sill, "How is your hair still so soft when it hasn't had a proper wash since Germany?" he wondered out loud, not caring if it was to himself or he actually got an answer.

Undertaker shrugged. "I dampen a comb with an herbal soak sometimes, before seeing to it in the mornings. It helps keep the road dust out and lessens tangles."

He turned in his seat to look back at him through the window. "You ought to let me treat yours sometime, love. It leaves the scalp nice and tingly."

"I've never heard of such a thing more than wearing some sort of headdress…" he muttered, and shrugged, "You may if you'd like to."

"Think of it as a sort of shampoo that doesn't require rinsing," explained the reaper. "But it can only do so much. A real wash and conditioning is ultimately the best thing for hair, whenever possible."

He started to chuckle suddenly, tickled by the conversation. "My, my...I never imagined I would one day find myself traveling the French countryside in a gypsy wagon, while discussing hair care tips with a bizarre doll who used to be a priest, but now happens to be my lover."

His chuckles rose to laughter. "Could you have ever...imagined yourself having this conversation with Death, my love? Never mind other things we've done together..."

With rose-tinted cheeks, Jase responded, "Seeing as I thought death was merely a happening, and souls left the body on their own, appearing at God's gates ready for judgment…No, not at all." He reached out looking at his hand as the morning light shone through his fingers, "Everything that has happened since the night that demon stepped foot in the church is all something that I had never imagined happening or taking part in…"

"It's unfortunate that we had to meet under such circumstances," said Undertaker as he steered the wagon down around the bend in the road. "I wouldn't change anything if I could, though. Call me a selfish old git, but I'm very glad I ran into you that night, love."

"…What were you doing that night, anyway? I doubt you walked into that church for prayer or confession…"

"I was on my way to take care of some business before leaving town, as I recall," answered the reaper. He snapped the reins to speed the horses up a little, now that they had made it into the village.

Undertaker checked his map, keeping one eye on the dirt road. He mumbled under his breath as he mentally reviewed the layout of the town.

"I surely didn't expect to sense the presence of both demons and angels in the same location, nor did I expect to find a near-dead priest, seared by angelfire."

He turned down a street to the left and he navigated through the village to the other end of it. "We should reach the other side of the province in just under ten minutes, my dear; and then I'll get you set up for a nice, soothing bath."

Jase nodded, getting the rather sudden urge to hug the reaper, but as the window was small, and they had a wall between them, he had no choice but to ignore it, simply grabbing his brush and bringing the length of Silver hair through the opening, brushing out the snarls as they rode through the small French town.

"Mmm, you're spoiling me," sighed Undertaker with pleasure.

A couple of people passing on the side if the road looked up in bemusement at the sight of the tall, silver-haired man getting his hair brushed while driving, but he hardly cared. Jase seemed quite comfortable to keep going, so the reaper enjoyed the pampering quietly.

"Not really, your hair could use a brush." Jase said, working out a small snarl. Then he continued while focusing his gaze on the man's hair, "…Last night was spoiling you…us…"

Undertaker grinned, his mind immediately reviewing the evening before. "Yes, you did. I truly hope you'll see fit to spoil me so again, when you've recovered. I fully intend to spoil you, by and by. Fair warning."

He nearly groaned at the tingling pleasure on his scalp as the brush ran through his hair again. "I should probably warn you also that this is nearly as good as sex to me."

"…You mean I could have brushed your hair last night and not woken up so sore I can hardly sit?" Jase teased, but kept a serious, protesting tone.

Undertaker knew better than to dig himself into a hole. "Oh, you might have distracted me for a bit, but my craving for you would have eventually gotten the better of me."

Undertaker reached back to take Jase's unoccupied hand and he caught it up in his, bringing it to his mouth to plant a soft kiss on the palm.

"There is nothing to compare with how last night felt, to me."

He turned down another, smaller road and he released the Frenchman's hand.

Jase blushed and finished brushing the reaper's long hair, "I…as long as you are right and my body grows used to it…I'd like to again…" he admitted in a low voice, not wanting anyone to overhear.

Undertaker concealed a smirk of satisfaction, pleased to hear that his lover was interested in more.

"When you've had the chance to rest up and relax," he promised, "I'll show you more."

He certainly had no objections to Jase riding him or choosing any other position he wished; he was a versatile man. He would allow his companion to decide for himself, as their relationship evolved.

The Doll let the reaper's hair fall back out of the window and down Undertaker's back as they pulled up to a small but comfortable looking inn. A woman tending to the garden along its front as two young children played with a ball near her.

Undertaker approached the woman and he smiled and bowed to her, since he'd neglected to don his hat to tip at her.

"Good morning, Madame," he greeted cheerfully in French. "I hear this is the best place in these parts to find bed and bath. Could you help my companion and I, perhaps?"

The woman smiled and nodded, "Of course, sir. My husband is out, but I can get your rooms situated." She looked over at her children, "Fleur, Rupert, you two come inside a moment."

"Yes, Mama!" They laughed, running past them into the inn.

"This way, sir." She said, following the children in, and then walking behind the counter and pulling out a guest book.

Undertaker cast a glance over his shoulder at his companion, watching from the window of the wagon. He smiled at him, before following the Innkeeper's wife into the building.

Jase stayed behind, gathering what they would need to take up into their rented room, folding clothes carefully and placing them in a bag.

The woman scratched a few notes into the book, "Alright, how many rooms will you need? We currently have four available."

"Only one, Madame," answered the reaper, "preferably with a double bed. We will be needing a bath to wash the travel dust off, too. If you would be so kind as to point me to a launder, my companion and I also have need to wash our clothes."

"I can happily wash your laundry for you, I have some of my own family's clothes to wash and I had planned to do so today. Please sign your name here." she passed him the book and a pen, turning to grab a key, "Each night you stay with us includes breakfast, free with the room. Lunch or Supper you can join us if you wish for an additional fee." She set they key down on the counter, "You will be in room two. Just up the stairs and to the right. There is a shared washroom for all guests to use as needed right across the hall."

"That will be just fine," beamed the reaper. "I'll pay up front, merci. Oh, and we have two horses to stable and feed later, if you please."

When he completed the transaction and collected the key, he headed back outside to the wagon. He opened up the side door and ducked inside to find his companion.

"All right, love...lets get our dirty laundry, collect a change of clothes from our trunks and get set up in the room, so I can prepare your bath."

"Done." Jase held up two bags, the larger of which held their dirty clothes and other such laundry, "I thought it'd save us time if I gathered things while you got our room." He grunted and stood up, handing one bag over to his companion, walking over to him and gingerly leaving a kiss upon his cheek before stepping out into the sunlight, his blindfold secured over his inhuman eyes.

"Watch your step, love," warned Undertaker as the doll stepped down. He impulsively reached out to steady him by the arm when he saw his little grimace of discomfort, and he bent over to murmur into his ear.

"It seems I've got more making up to do than first suspected, my dear. I'll bring you back something nice and I promise to be gentler, next time."

"Gentler?" Jase steadied himself and looked up at the tall reaper towering above him, "I doubt being gentler would be any different when you look at how big you are…" He blushed deep at his rather blunt statement and turned to go inside before he made things any more awkward.

Undertaker snorted with amusement, covering his smiling, pale lips with his fingertips. He left off saying more, and he followed his companion inside.

The two children, looking to be about five or six, looked up as the two men walked into the lobby, "Mama went up to change sheets in your room, mista Person!" The little boy said as his sister chased after their ball that was rolling across the room.

The little girl threw the ball back, laughing as it hit her brother in the side of the head.

"Heyyy! That's not nice, Fleur!" He chased after his sister who only giggled harder, running around so that he couldn't catch her.

Jase chuckled, watching the siblings fondly.

"Cute little nippers, eh?" Undertaker grinned at them, and he fished his keys out of his pocket, and he patted the girl's curly blonde head.

"I'll get your bath ready now," said the reaper to Jase.

"Which room are we in?" Jase asked, following the reaper up the stairs, stepping to the side as the kids rushed up passed him and down the hall, turning the corner.

"Number two," answered Undertaker. He offered his folded clothes to the doll and retained his apothecary bag. "What's say you put these away in our room for me, while I ready your bath?"

Jase nodded, taking them and walking over to the room with the number '2' carved into the doorframe. But he stopped short before actually entering the room, his eyes widening behind his lacy blindfold at the tall woman he saw changing the linens.

Undertaker frowned as he began to fill the brass tub. He thought he sensed something faint through the link with his dollie; some strong emotion. He sensed no danger, though, and there were no corrupt souls nearby to trigger Jase's hunger.

A bit more slowly, he resumed adding the herbal mixture to the heated water, listening curiously with his senses all the while.

Jase took a shaky step forward, and then back, not knowing what to do in his situation. This woman—she was a face he never thought he'd see again…his Joyelle. He wanted to hug her, to have her in his life again—but the young man—the boy she had once known was dead, and in his place, a creature that would never age and feasted upon raw flesh if left unchecked was in his place. He reached up and ran his fingers over his scar.

She looked up from her task with a smile, having heard his uneven footsteps. "Are you the traveling companion of Monsieur Chronus Undertaker? Your bedding is...nearly..."

She trailed off, staring at him with a light of recognition in her pale green eyes. Her hand went to her bosom, and she smiled tentatively.

"Mon Dieu! Could it be...?"

"…Joy..?" Jase set the bags down by his feet, taking another step forward, "Joyelle Dupont?" He could feel his heart speed up.

She nodded. "Jase Dubois? My 'little brother'? Is it truly you?"

So he had been right in his recent realization, Joy loved him as family…and he, her. It wasn't the same as what he shared with the British reaper. His fingers fidgeted with his locket as he nodded, "It has been…a long time… eight years? Nine?"

"Almost nine," she agreed, her eyes sparkling with the threat of tears as she clutched the simple cross adorning her throat. "Jase, what has happened to you? How can you recognize me, if you are blind?"

"I—There was an accident when I was in England…" he bit his lip, wondering how much to tell her—what Chronus had said. He had, after all, made up a few different stories as they traveled. "I'm not blind…well, completely. I need this blindfold to protect what sight I have left. It's a thick lace designed so that I can still see though it." It wasn't really a lie. It was true. If too much light shown in his eyes, he couldn't see anything at all, and his eyes burned quite painfully.

The Doll stepped forward again, looking up at her. She was as beautiful as he remembered, honey-brown hair, gentle eyes, a warm smile. He settled on a story that was enough of the truth that he wouldn't feel guilty about telling, and he continued, "The accident gave me quite a few lasting conditions. Chronus is the man who saved me, and treats me when I have…blackouts. I'm very reliant on him for that, but I also had to leave the Church because of it." He reached up to gently cup her cheek, "But you…how have you been these past years? You are a mother?"

She nodded. "Yes; Fleur and Rupert." She smiled at the sound of said children calling out playfully to each other downstairs, and she laid a hand over the one cupping her cheek. "They are the light of my life."

Her eyes studied him closely, and she reached out to touch the scar on his forehead. "That strange, tall man saved you? Is he a doctor, then? He seems friendly enough, but something about him unsettles me."

"He has his issues, but what man doesn't? I have issues of my own. Chronus is a good man…" He blushed lightly and took her hand, kissing it, "You are as beautiful as the day we met…It's good to know you have been taken care of."

"It isn't always an easy life," she said, "but it is a good one, and I have all I need. As long as your friend takes care of you and you are safe and happy, it's enough."

Her smile returned, and she squeezed his hands. "You _are_ happy, are you not?"

"In ways I could have never predicted." Jase nodded.

Undertaker heard the tail end of the conversation, having quietly approached in the hallway to let Jase know his bath was ready and he was going out. His surprise at overhearing that the innkeeper's wife was apparently none other than the doll's lady love was only overpowered by the warmth he felt in response to his answer.

He'd hoped that Jase was happy, of course, but the realistic side of him thought that was a slim hope, given the doll's circumstances. At best, Undertaker thought he might make his lover's existence a bit more bearable. He never expected to hear him say that he was actually happy.

Undertaker smiled, and he deliberately cleared his throat to announce his presence, before stepping through the open doorway.

"Pardon me. Jase, your bath is ready for you. I'm going to go run my errands, and I'll be back in a few hours."

Jase nodded, "Thank you…You should pick up the new wheel for the wagon first. It looked about ready to break again when we arrived." He smiled and turned back to Joy, giving her a little bow, "It is nice seeing you again. I'd like to catch up some more when you aren't too busy?" He said before digging some clean clothes out of his bag and leaving to bathe.

Undertaker gave the woman a polite nod, and he stepped aside to let Jase pass before following him into the hall. He gave the doll's bottom a familiar little covert pat before parting ways with him, grinning from ear to ear at his surprised little gasp.

"I'll see you by dinner time, master Dubois," he said aloud, keeping his words formal to cover up his sneaky flirtation. "I hope the bath soothes your...aches"

He barely resisted a snicker at the sight of Jase's mad blush, and he wisely opted out of teasing him. Placing his top hat on his head, the reaper left his blushing companion to make use of the washroom and he took his leave of the Inn.

Jase quickly ducked into the washroom, not wanting to have to explain the flush he knew assaulted his cheeks should Joy walk out to see it. With a sigh, he stripped down out of his clothes and blindfold, as Undertaker had kindly closed the shutters to the room and lit a few candles to keep things dim. He then slipped into the icy, scented waters of the bath, relaxing into it with a small smile. Despite the teasing the reaper took pleasure in; he did take the time to always make sure Jase was comfortable and taken care of.

* * *

 

Undertaker made an extra stop after having the wheel replaced and picking up a cut of raw venison from the butcher. He drove out of town to the forest's edge, and he stopped the wagon and hopped down to search around the undergrowth, first.

After collecting some moss, wild herbs and bark samples for his apothecary needs, he searched the trees for a specific kind of bird, calling out a perfect imitation of a raven's caw. After a few moments, one of them answered his summons and swooped down from the canopy to perch on his outstretched forearm.

"Hello, friend," greeted the reaper as he dug through a pouch at his belt and retrieved the small offering he'd bought for this purpose. He fed the raven a strip of raw meat from the pouch to hold its interest, and then he reached into a pocket to find the small scroll capsule he'd put there.

"Now be still," said Undertaker as he poked his tongue out the corner of his mouth. He snapped the message securely to one of the animal's legs and he fed it the rest of the meat strips, whispering instructions to it in an ancient tongue that could literally frighten a human to death, upon hearing it.

"Now go," finished Undertaker. "Carry my message to Druitt, with all haste."

He didn't include his location in the simple message. All the note said was: ' _Someone among you has betrayed me, and you will discover who and send this bird back to me, if you wish to do further business.'_

The viscount would know who it was from by the handwriting and the method of delivery. They had communicated over long distances this way before, and all he needed to do was keep the raven until he had a response, then set it free to fly back to its temporary master. It would know where to find both parties, thanks to Undertaker's dark will. It would also enjoy a slice of immortality in the form of Death's protection, while it was on its mission.

Satisfied that his message would make it to its destination, Undertaker released the raven and watched it fly away, before getting back on the wagon to return to town.

* * *

To be continued...


	16. Chapter 16

After a nice long soak in the tub, Jase had dressed himself, and taken his carving tools, working on some more things to sell. He worked outside on the bench in the garden so that he wouldn't make a mess inside. He'd spent a few hours talking to Joy as she worked on laundry and hung it out to dry, until her husband arrived and after quick introductions, he was left alone as the family went inside to start on their dinner.

Undertaker found him there after putting the horses to stable and locking up the wagon securely for the night. Now donning his top hat again, the reaper smiled at the picture his lover made in the afternoon light, serenely carving away at another sculpture. His hair, now freshly washed and dried, shone in the sunlight and the ponytail had dried into a loose ringlet. He made quite the attractive picture.

Undertaker stopped before him and tipped his hat cordially. Casting a glance around to be sure nobody was immediately nearby, he spoke in a low voice. "How was the bath, love? Feeling better?"

"Chronus—ow!"

Jase, having been lost in his own little world, hadn't heard his lover approaching, and at the sudden sound of his voice, Jase jumped, his carving tool slipping and cutting a long scratch into his hand, blood welling up quickly in the luckily, still shallow wound. He gasped, dropping the tool in his lap and lifting up his hand to examine the wound.

"Bugger," muttered the reaper, and he glided over to his lover and knelt before him to take his hand. "Silly dollie, you're meant to carve the _wood_ , not yourself."

He set down the shopping sack and his apothecary bag as he took the injured hand, and he clucked his tongue. "Fortunately, I just gathered fresh supplies from the forest. I'll have this cleaned and wrapped for healing in moments, my dear."

Muttering softly to himself, the reaper pored a little water from Jase's canteen over the cut to wash away surface dirt, and then he took a square of gauze from his kit and pressed it into his injured palm.

"Just hold that there to slow the bleeding, while I mix a soak for cleaning and bandaging."

"Sorry...I didn't expect anyone…" Jase muttered, watching the reaper tend to his cut. He sat in silence a moment, "…It's odd…I can hardly feel the pain from this cut…I felt it as it happened, but the pain faded as quickly as it happened…yet I can still feel the effects of what we did last night…"

Undertaker nodded. "If I were to venture a guess, that's because this is a little surface cut from a good, sharp knife." He smiled mischievously at him, looking up from his task to wink at him beneath his bangs.

"What I did to you last night was neither quick nor on the surface. You've probably got a bit of internal bruising. I wouldn't call it blunt force trauma, exactly, but..."

The doll flushed darker, "I—I meant it as a difference between when I was human and now…" he said quickly, "A cut like this would hurt for a week at least."

"Ah," said the reaper with a nod. "We'll, it comes as no surprise to me that you've gained a higher threshold to pain. Speaking of the latter sort, how is your bum feeling now, after a soak?"

He treated the cut and he gently bandaged it as he spoke.

"…I can sit at least…" he murmured with a sigh, leaning over against Undertaker's side as he let his hand be wrapped, "And it has stopped throbbing…"

"Good," said Undertaker. He risked a quick kiss to the doll's forehead as he finished applying the medicine and began to wrap the injured hand with care.

"I promise not to jump you again until your aches have faded...at least, not _that_ way." He smiled. "I can't promise not to kiss and touch this sweet body to give you pleasure in the night, though. It's far too delightful a treat to resist."

"I'm not…" Jase withdrew his hand and buried his face in both palms to hide the flush on his cheeks. He swore he'd never blushed so much in his life until he met the reaper.

"You aren't a treat?" Undertaker chuckled. "That's news to me, love. There, all better." He finished wrapping his hand and he brought it to his lips to kiss the fingers. "Now, let's see about preparing dinner. Your lady friend said I could make use of the oven in the kitchen."

He stood up and he offered Jase his hand.

The Doll gathered his tools back into their case and tucked it under his arm, then cradling his project in the crook of his arm before taking his lover's hand with his good one, and let himself be pulled to his feet, finding himself pressed up against the reaper before the man stepped back and let go of his hand. "I'll go put things back up in our room." He said, turning to hurry inside with his carving set.

Undertaker watched him go, and then he went inside to begin preparing dinner. He rubbed the meat down with a bit of sea salt, rosemary and thyme, and then he washed the greens and put them onto a pot with some water, butter and pepper. While that was soaking, he began to tenderize Jase's meat before cutting it into cubes.

The Frenchman put things away quickly, and walked back down to the kitchen where he could hear Joy and her family in the next room enjoying their own dinner. He walked up behind Chronus and peered around his shoulder at what he was doing, "I want to try going out tonight…" he muttered.

"Oh?" The reaper turned a bit, pausing his cutting. "Where did you have in mind?"

"Joy was saying there was a public park a few blocks down that is beautiful at night…I kind of wanted to see it…with you."

"Hmm," said Undertaker thoughtfully. "I rather like the thought. We could go after dinner, if you like."

Jase smiled, "It's a date then…" he whispered, walking over to fill a glass with water.

He couldn't explain why, but Chronus found the simple 'date' idea almost as exciting as sex. He smiled with the realization that for the first time, he'd thought of himself by the name Jase gave him, without any hesitation at all.

* * *

 

 

After the couple ate their dinner and cleaned their dishes so that Joy wouldn't have any extra work, the two set off on foot down the streets of the small French countryside town and soon turning in through the Park's gates. It was a chillier evening, and very few people left their warm homes to enjoy a stroll in the early spring evening, leaving the paths empty, and allowing Jase to grow a little more relaxed about having a public date. He smiled, drawing closer to the reaper and slipping their hands together, entwining their fingers in a comfortable silence.

Around them, the trees grew thicker, and in the darkness, little specks of moving lights started to twinkle as fireflies moved through the cool air. A calm stream ran through the area and under a white stone bridge further up the path.

"I must say, this is lovely," remarked Chronus. He gave his lover's hand a squeeze as his boots touched down on the stone bridge. He paused and frowned. "I'm afraid I can't cross."

Jase blinked and looked up at the reaper, "Why ever not?"

The reaper nodded at the stream. "Didn't you know? Supernatural beings can't cross running water."

"Why not? It's just water. It makes no sense." The former priest stated. And it was true. To him, he couldn't see why anything couldn't cross a bridge. And even if it were true, what about the train? He was sure it had crossed over water when they traveled, and what of the River Thymes in London?

Chronus couldn't keep a straight face any longer. He started to laugh in spite of himself, and he gave the doll's hand a squeeze. "You aren't a gullible sort, my love. No matter; I can find other ways to tease you."

With a broad, white-toothed smile, he gently goosed the former priest in the side.

"Yeiieh!" Jase jumped, stumbling in a graceful, almost dancing manor to the center of the bridge, turning to look at Chronus.

The reaper caught up his companion's hands, and he pulled him close with a delighted chuckle. "Couldn't resist, darlin'. You do make the cutest sounds when I tickle you, and it's been a while."

Jase blushed and leaned into his lover, "You make it sound as if you used to tickle me often…you've only done so once before…in the beginning when I couldn't move."

"Out of courtesy," agreed Chronus between chuckles, "I haven't done it since then because you asked me not to, but it hasn't been an easy temptation to resist."

Undertaker bent over a bit and he lowered his face to the doll's to rub the tip of his nose affectionately against his.

Jase tilted his head further back until his lips caught the reaper's, "There are other ways of getting me to smile, my Chronus." He whispered with a small grin against his lips.

"Indeed, there are," agreed the reaper, sobering a bit at the feel of his companion's animated lips against his own. He put his hands on Jase's waist and he kissed him back, basking in the affection.

"How did I become this clingy, lovesick thing?" Wondered Chronus between kisses. He embraced the smaller man completely and he lifted him against him, making love to his mouth.

"How did I turn from a man of the church, to a man that calls another man 'Lover'?" Jase countered when he could as he was lifted from the ground where he stood and pressed against the reaper. Their height difference annoyed him slightly. Undertaker was over a full foot taller, and even popping onto his toes didn't bring him up enough to kiss the reaper…he had to pull the man down further. And being picked up only reminded him more of how short he was. Or it would have if he wasn't so distracted by the feel of the reaper's lips and tongue on his.

"Hmm, we all have our burdens to bear," said the reaper with a grin, setting him down again. "Not that I find mine particularly 'burdensome'."

He winked at Jase, and he bent over to retrieve a stone he had spotted. He chucked it over the water, making it skip a little before sinking into the stream. He took Jase's hand again as they resumed walking, and a thought came to him.

"You know , I haven't even had _my_ bath yet. It completely skipped my mind."

He lifted an arm and sniffed himself experimentally, suddenly worried that the sponge bath he'd had the night before wasn't enough to keep the stink at bay. It was hard to gauge his own body odor.

"Sorry if I stink, love."

Jase blinked, "I can't smell you if you do stink." He shrugged as they rounded a bend.

He'd forgotten about Jase's sense of smell getting burned away. "Right. I suppose that's a blessing, then."

"Sometimes, I suppose…" Jase looked up at him, "There are times I can catch a whiff of something when you are close, but I wouldn't say it's unpleasant."

"I'd hope not," chuckled Chronus. He pulled his companion off the path and into the shadows. His grinning lips descended to the Frenchman's, and they paused half an inch away from their goal.

"I would be frightfully sorry to hear that it took you so long to warm up to me because I'm smelly."

Jase gave a small laugh, "It was much more serious a reason on my part, and you know that. It's hard to let go of the church's teachings. If it had been your smell I would have requested you to get cologne."

"Fair enough," answered the reaper with a shrug, and he closed the distance between their mouths for a kiss.

Jase gave a small, frustrated grunt, stretching to keep the kiss going. Finally, he gave up and pulled back, looking around and spotting a large rock. He pulled Undertaker further into the brush and stepped up onto it to give himself a boost as he reconnected the kiss.

The taller man was too delighted by Jase's eagerness to laugh about it. He embraced him, and a cool night breeze came in and blew their hair to the side as the couple exchanged kisses that grew more heated by the moment.

Undertaker found himself swelling quickly with desire as his tongue caressed his sweet, eager little lover's. He pulled Jase tighter against him and he slipped one hand down to cup his bottom; mindful not to put pressure near the tailbone.

He wanted him again...but he intended to give him at least another day to recover from his aches, before repeating the act from last night.

"Mph, you're getting this old stinker too excited, my dear," he warned, breaking the kiss with a sigh. "I think we'd best save more of that for after my bath, when we're in the privacy of our room and our comfy bed."

Jase held his expression somewhat serious with a hint of disappointment, "But I've got a rock." He stated simply, it was a joke, and he had a hard time keeping his lips from twitching upwards.

Undertaker snickered softly under his breath. "You and me both, lovely. I suppose I could see to the matter here and now if you wish, though."

He reached around the front of the doll's pants and began to unfasten them.

"Th-that?" Jase gasped, "Now? Here? In the park?"

Chronus smirked at him and he carried it a little further, cupping the straining bulge between Jase's thighs to give it a rub through his trousers.

"I _could_ make it so that we're invisible to the human eye, if anyone happens to pass near us." He pressed his companion up against the trunk of the nearby tree; close enough to Jase's rock to do so without un-perching him.

"Of course, the noises we make can't be masked," reasoned the taller man mischievously as he nibbled Jase's ear.

Jase started to regret his attempt at teasing his lover, his breath catching in his throat, "But…but we did so last night, and…" he swallowed, "We aren't out in the middle of nowhere during a storm! Someone will hear…"

Undertaker chuckled in more of a pained manner than a humorous one. He'd initially started this to tease Jase, but he'd tortured himself with it, too. He stopped his playing and he straightened the smaller man's clothes with a rueful little smirk.

"Well, darlin', the joke is as much on me as it is on you. I'd never take you out in the open...not even if I was burning for you; which I am."

He caressed the doll's face fondly and he willed his libido into submission. "Still, it was fun playing. I want our next encounter to be in a bed though...for your sake, if not mine."

He gave him a tender kiss on the mouth and he mentally told his swollen groin to stop being selfish. "And our next encounter needn't include the act which put your derrière in such a sore spot, either. We can love each other's bodies without penetration, my dear."

The Doll shifted, moving his hands to hide his crotch, cheeks painted with a healthy red flush, "…And now I know I'm not so good at teasing you…you take it as bait…"

Undertaker blurted a laugh at that, and he impulsively hugged the Frenchman. "Yes, you should have known better, but I enjoyed your teasing nonetheless."

He pulled away again before the feel of their arousal pressing against one another could tempt him further. He made a polite gesture at the path and he offered Jase his hand. "Shall we finish our stroll and return to the Inn, then?"

Nodding, the Doll hopped down off the rock and joined the reaper's side as they stepped out of the brush and back onto the path, "Lets…before we have even bigger problems…"

The reaper glanced down, suddenly thankful that his long over garments concealed so much of his condition...visually, at least. "Indeed. We wouldn't want anything to get...bigger."

"It's all fine for you…" Jase muttered, also looking at how the reaper's clothes hid so much. He only had garments that fit him properly and were made of a thin fabric so that he could stay cooler.

Undertaker tried not to stare at the more obvious state that Jase was in, but he was right; the breeches he wore were rather form-fitting, and they didn't leave much to the imagination with their owner in a state of arousal. Jase wasn't a big man overall, true, but he was proportioned nicely and he had a lovely set of jewels to go with-

He was staring. Evidently, the concealment of his bangs wasn't enough to hide that, going by the look on Jase's face. Undertaker quickly unbuttoned and removed his outer robe, and he settled it around Jase's shoulders. It would drag behind him due to the length, but it offered some concealment. "There," he said in satisfaction, "that ought to afford you some modesty, 'till we return. I wouldn't want anyone else looking at you the way I just did, anyhow."

"You really have no shame, do you?" Jase asked, trying to adjust the robes around him so that they wouldn't drag like the train of a dress. He then took Undertaker's hand; sure he looked ridiculous wrapped up in the tent of a robe.

The reaper snickered beneath his breath and shook his head. "None at all, my sweet. One could hardly blame me, considering the treat to the eyes I'm in the company of." He smiled at him, admiring the reflection of the starlight and light bugs in his unusual eyes. It was a pity that he was forced to cover those eyes so often.

Jase reached up, brushing the reaper's bangs to the side, "You aren't the only one with a beautiful view this evening." He gave the man a smile, and turned, walking further down the path and enjoying the cool spring air.

Undertaker stood stupefied for a moment, and then he grinned and hurried after him. Oh, how he loved French passion.

* * *

 

After enjoying a good, soothing bath and washing his long hair thoroughly, Undertaker rejoined his companion in their room. He demonstrated to him just a few more ways they could love each other without intercourse; encouraging the blushing doll to touch him back intimately as he pleasured him.

Jase's instincts again proved spot-on, and Chronus rolled onto his back on the bed and allowed the smaller man to straddle him. He lined up their stiffened members and he stroked them while Jase undulated on top of him. Looking up at him, Undertaker wondered how he would survive, once Jase got used to intimacy enough to explore his desires to there fullest.

Cheeks flushed, hands covering the reapers as he stroked them both off, the young Frenchman looked like sex incarnate to his immortal lover, and every soft, shaken cry was a piece of heaven to him.

This time, it was Undertaker that lost himself first, but he kept going even after he was spent and gasping, until Jase's back arched and he slapped a hand over his own mouth to muffle his cry of relief.

The doll collapsed onto his pale, sweating companion and Undertaker chilled his body and the air around them to cool them both. As they drifted off to sleep together, the reaper smiled in the darkness and gave his companion a squeeze.

* * *

To be continued...


	17. Chapter 17

The Following morning, the unlikely couple awoke and cleaned themselves up before packing their things away in their wagon once more, pausing to say goodbye to Joy and her family, though they did end up sitting down to join the family for the complimentary breakfast Joyelle had prepared. For Jase, he only ate to be polite, seeing as he could not taste the crapes, nor did he need the nourishment. But Undertaker's enjoyment of the meal was enough to reassure the Doll that he was not lying when he complimented Joy on her cooking. With a kiss to each cheek, Jase departed from Joy and her lively young children, and a handshake to her husband. He then followed Undertaker to their awaiting wagon and hopped up onto the drivers bench next to his lover before they left the town, continuing on their way deeper into the heart of France.

The Doll sighed after traveling for an hour, leaning against Undertaker's side and resting his head against his shoulder as his eyes watched the scenery pass by from behind his blindfold.

"She's a lovely woman, your Joy," murmured Undertaker softly, holding the reins in one hand so that he could give his companion a half-embrace. "Will you miss her terribly?"

"No more than I had when I was in England." Jase said, "She's happy and has a family, and that's what matters most to me. I'm grateful, though, that I could see her again. I hadn't expected to be able to after I became your Doll."

"I'm glad it worked out that way, love," said Undertaker sincerely.

He gave the reaper a smile "But, I think we need to think of one story to stick to…make things easier when we travel and get questioned…"

"I agree," said the reaper. "It wouldn't do to raise too many unwanted questions, with mismatched stories. Still, sometimes improvising is necessary; such as when we were on the train. I can explain away most of your needs and limitations as medical conditions, but how they came to be is a story we haven't settled on. What would you prefer, my dear?"

"I don't want to have the lie be too big and complicated, I'd like it to be as close to the truth as possible." The Doll said, leaning back in thought, "But I have no physical burns, and I have this scar…" he thought out loud, touching his scar.

Undertaker drove quietly, letting him hash it out. He could come up with a medical explanation for just about anything Jase came up with, and the doll was ultimately the one that needed to choose the story that best suited him.

"…I was attacked and nearly killed…" He sighed and looked at his lover, "Maybe I received a head injury of sorts?"

Undertaker thought on it, and he shrugged. "That could explain some of your urges and the light sensitivity, I suppose. The fever you are afflicted with sometimes can't be explained by a head injury, but I don't suppose anyone besides me is going to be getting close enough to notice."

"Unless I overheat again like on the train…" he sighed and rubbed his head, "I still can't remember everything from when that happened…"

Undertaker chose not to recap the incident. Jase's guilt was bad enough, without being reminded of his attack on the woman on the train. "I think we've learned to manage that rather well. You haven't had an episode at all lately, and the only person you attacked in Germany was me."

He grinned and winked at him playfully.

Jase's cheeks flushed, arming himself with a pipe hadn't been the best idea, "Sorry…"

The reaper chuckled and shook his head, tipping his hat down to provide additional shade from the sun. "You don't need to keep apologizing for that, love. You couldn't have known it was me coming around back of that building."

He gave the doll an affectionate, forgiving squeeze around the waist. "Besides, you healed the damage later. I'm fine now."

"…I'm surprised you didn't scold me for that…I didn't know what I was doing and I made myself pass out trying to help you…"

"I was too anxious to lecture," explained the reaper, "and too relieved that you were safe."

The Doll nodded as they continued on in silence a moment, "Chronus…" he bit his lip, "When did you stop thinking of me as just a Doll and start thinking of me as more?"

"I never thought of you as 'just a doll'," answered the taller man. "You've always been much more than that, to me. Now, I admit that I didn't quite think of you as a person, at first. You were a curiosity; an experiment; and my masterpiece."

Chronus lifted his bangs to look his companion over better, briefly revealing his vivid, green-gold eyes. He smiled. "It didn't really take long for me to begin getting attached to you. I couldn't objectify you easily, once you poked your head out of your shell and showed me how feisty you are."

"…A valuable Doll, then…but still, I know at first you only protected me because I was an investment. I was just wondering when it turned from that to protecting me because you cared. I'm sure when that man shot you it was still because I was your Doll…"

"Partly," admitted Undertakerwith a nod, "but a part of it was..."

He trailed off and looked away with a frown, uncomfortable with the realization he was having.

"…'was', what?" Jase asked, looking up at Undertaker.

Undertaker shrugged. "I'm afraid I have issues with innocents coming to harm. You were an innocent, like a certain foolish boy I have no business trying to save."

He hated to think of it. He hated his diversion from neutrality. "Sometimes I don't know if I would rather do good or evil, if I stray too far from my role. I'm certainly capable of both, as you know."

He fell into silence again. He'd never really stopped to think about it before he met Jase; he'd allowed whimsy to drive his actions.

"…I don't know what I'd rather say in response to that…It's rather human of you…but, at the same time…it only furthers the thought that you are more my guardian angel than the actual angels turned out to be…" The doll mused out loud.

Undertaker smiled, and he gave the doll a little squeeze and a nuzzle, pressing a kiss against the crown of his head.

"I'm...glad that you feel that way. Before I met you, I-"

His response was cut off by the sound of gunshots, and the reaper pulled his companion tight against him and ducked, just as a shot struck the wagon right where his head had been a moment ago.

He'd been so distracted by the conversation and his thoughts that he'd failed to sense the desperate, unfriendly auras approaching from ahead and behind them.

Jase gasped, looking up at the bullet hole in the wooden wagon. The horses were startled and reared back on their hind legs, ready to bolt at any moment. The Doll looked around, spotting nothing before he felt the familiar numbness as the unseen assailant or assailants drew closer. "Ahh!"

Undertaker saw them then, coming out from the undergrowth lining the narrow road. They had twigs and leaves in their hair; but for the apparent leader, who blocked the path ahead on the back of a brown horse, with several camouflaged ruffians flanking him.

Even as he pulled the wagon to a stop, the reaper rolled his eyes. Night wouldn't fall for several hours, yet.

"Either very desperate, or very fool hearty," he observed to his companion, still bowed over him protectively.

"S-so many…" Jase gasped, grabbing Undertaker's sleeve as he fought to keep control. His mouth watering. He hadn't eaten any meat since dinner the evening before, and there were at least twenty bandits surrounding them that he could sense. His breath drew heavier and he bit down on his lip, as if hoping it'd help him not sink his teeth into someone else.

Undertaker felt his lover's desperation, and he acted quickly; not so much to protect their attackers as to preserve Jase's morality. He called upon death's chill and a thick fog rolled in to blanket the wagon and horses, offering some concealment from the highwaymen.

The leader called for their surrender, but the reaper ignored the order and concentrated on his companion as he cupped his face, tossed his hat to the bench and shook his hair out of the way to look into his eyes.

"Jase, you will do no harm unless your master commands."

"Yes, Master." came the emotionless response from the Doll's lips. Once he was returned to his usual state of mind, Jase was a little more relaxed, though still on edge. He took a shaky breath, and looked over at the man on a horse. "…He's the worst…" he mumbled.

Undertaker nodded in agreement. "I'll try to spare some of them."

Easy promise to make, but hard to keep. Most of them were just involved out of necessity, because there was no other way to feed themselves or their families.

But they had dared to attack him and his lover. He was still a reaper, no matter how he tried to run from it. He was still Death.

Jase nodded and licked his lips as a man drew closer.

"Hey, we told you t' step down off there!" the man growled, reaching over and grabbing Jase's shoulder, yanking him back off the bench.

Jase whipped around, nearly hissing at the man.

Undertaker reacted immediately and violently to the aggression against his lover. He jumped down and he grabbed the ruffian by the wrist, before he could reach for Jase again. The chill of death spread from the reaper's grip, freezing flesh and bone until it was as brittle as thin ice.

"Shouldn't have laid hands on the lad, chump." Undertaker smiled coldly and he crushed the bones of the hapless man's wrist with ease. Being frozen through as it was, the limb didn't bleed as the wrist and hand broke away from the forearm. The detached hand fell to the ground, shattering with the impact, and while its owner screamed in shocked agony, Undertaker manifested his death scythe.

"Which one of you gents wants to flirt with Death next, eh?"

"Wh-What is this witchcraft?" a man cried out, shivering as he backed away.

"Cowards!" The man on the horse shouted, "Don't let him fool you!"

"That's not a trick of the light! His hand!"

"Even witches can be burned!"

Undertaker laughed at that; even as he positioned himself in front of his lover; shielding him bodily. "You face a more daunting opponent than the innocents that your intolerant brethren so callously burned to death, I assure you."

He lost his mirth at the memory of how many victims of witch burning a he'd ferried to the afterlife, in the past. Most were females, guilty of nothing more than guessing the turn of the weather correctly.

"Arrogant bunch," murmured the reaper, raising his scythe high so that it glinted in the dappled sunlight. "To kill someone for their belongings is petty, but at least it's more honest than foolish assumption and fear of the unknown. I should reap you all right now."

Jase was feeling dizzy, and he closed his eyes, his body beginning to shake with the urge to sink his teeth into one of these men.

"What's his problem?"

"Who cares?" a man raised his gun, pointing it at Undertaker, "Simply stand down and no harm'll come to you or the kid."

Undertaker shook his head. "Pack of fools."

He jumped and he whirled, his scythe spinning through the air to cut down the nearest assailant. As he moved, he summoned a sotoba and hurled it straight at the one aiming the pistol. A shot rang out from another firearm and it clanged against the blade of his bloodied scythe, while a burst of cinematic records erupted from the man he'd reaped. He caught flashes of the victim's life and he was thankful that Jase couldn't see the events and discover that the fallen one was a father.

He saw the leader take aim at Jase, and a moment of panic made him careless.

"Jase, duck!" He shouted, and he felt the sting of a rapier piercing his chest.

Jase dropped himself just as a bullet whizzed over his head, nearly shaving off the ends of his long hair.

Two more shots rang out, and one pierced through Undertaker's shoulder, going clean through. Orders were shouted, and men swarmed the reaper. The leader dismounted his horse and walked over to Jase, picking him up off the ground and pressing his pistol to the former Priest's temple, "Drop your weapon, witch!"

The Doll went stiff, his gaze behind his blindfold going distant from being so close to the man, his mouth opening, as the only thing that kept him from biting into him was the leash. He was mindless once more, craving only the flesh of this man.

Undertaker did stop, if only for his lover's sake. He turned to stare at the man holding Jase at gunpoint, and he debated his chances of reaching him before the highwayman pulled the trigger. He could free Jase from his compulsion to better his chances, but that still would not guarantee his survival. A shot to the brain would likely kill him, like all the other dolls.

He banished his scythe and held his hands out, choosing to bide his time for a better moment. These fools didn't have a prayer of ending _him_ , but Jase could be another matter.

The bandit leader smirked, "Good to know you could care for this little guy." He backed towards his horse, dragging Jase with him, the horse growing nervous due to Jase's strange scent. "We'll be taking your wagon and horses. You best turn around and start walking."

"You'll be taking nothing, until you release my companion," promised the reaper. He smiled brightly. "And should he die or come to harm by your hand, your innards will be draping every inch of this forest."

"You are in no place to make demands. I am, and I'll take what I wish when I wish. And this one could fetch a nice price on the market…quiet one…mute as well as blind? Doesn't struggle…"

That was it for Chronus. His smile turned maniacal, and he felt an ugly surge of rage that startled him.

"Bugger morals. You really shouldn't have said that, mortal.". To his young lover, he spoke in a caressing tone and he readied himself for the attack. "Jase, it's time to wake up now, my love. Defend yourself from these miscreants."

Dense fog billowed around the reaper as he spoke, spreading quickly to blanket the area and reduce visibility to less than three feet. A shot was fired by one of the bandits, but it hit nowhere near its mark as Undertaker leaped through the air and called forth his scythe.

Jase's body leapt to action, his head turning to the side, ignoring the gun butted up against his temple as he sank his teeth deep into the man's neck. With a hiss mixed with the gurgling of blood filling his mouth, he jabbed his nails into the man's shoulders to hold himself up when the startled man tried to drop him, yanking and pulling at the small man to get him off—seemingly having forgotten the gun in his hand until it discharged and a bullet was sent flying into one of his men who had run to help pry off the Doll.

Leaving the leader to his fate now that he knew Jase had the jump on him, Undertaker became as a shadow of death, cutting through the ranks of his prey without mercy or hesitation. These benighted humans had dared to threaten the one thing on earth more important to him than laughter, and they were going to pay the price.

"I _did_ warn you chaps," he said as the fog-encased road became forested with cinematic records. He didn't bother collecting any of them; he just let them spill out wild from his victims, to fade away and escape as the life faded from them.

The screams of the bandits made him smile, particularly the leader's. He didn't ordinarily take such pleasure in the culling of mortals. He rarely killed them himself, but this was an exception.

Naturally they tried to fight back, but they were at a disadvantage due to the fog. Used to relying on other senses rather than sight, Undertaker was hardly troubled by the blinding fog. One by one, they fell to his attacks; while their leader fought a losing battle with the doll he'd so foolishly talked of selling into slavery.

One man started to try and pull Jase from his leader, but a sharp bite to his hand later he was running to escape. The leader screamed as teeth and nail tore him apart. The boy was like a wild animal! A demon. A demon enslaved to a soulless warlock. That's what they had tried to rob—and he regretted it as he slowly died.

Once the man had stopped moving, Jase slowly stood up again, covered in blood as if he had bathed in it. In the struggle against his captor-turned-victim, his blindfold had been removed, his shirt and vest torn but in his mindless state, he took no notice of either of these things. He stood as a statue, trapped in his mindless state. But no sinful soul was left to attack. So he simply stood there, lifeless swirled eyes staring down at the partially eaten corpse. It looked as if a wolf had gotten the man.

Undertaker didn't attempt to pursue the handful of survivors that fled into the forest. He gave his companion a quick examination to ensure none of the blood on him was his, and then he calmed the frightened horses.

"Easy," he cajoled, patting them both down until they settled.

When he was certain they wouldn't bolt, he went back to Jase and he whipped out his handkerchief and wet it with some water from the doll's canteen. He used it to wipe away the blood and gore coating his face, and then he cleaned his hands off.

"I think it's best you stay in your trance until I can get us away from here and clean you up more thoroughly," he murmured with a touch of regret. He disliked leaving him in this state, but he liked the prospect of his illustrious guilt even less.

On impulse, the reaper stroked his lover's disheveled hair and he looked into his blank, heavy-lidded eyes. "This was none of your doing, lovely. They left us no choice. I hope that you can understand that, when you return to your senses."

* * *

To be continued...


	18. Chapter 18

Undertaker had scooped Jase up into his arms and placed him inside the wagon, leaving the bodies of the dead laying in the road. About a half hour down the road he came across a small stream, and he quickly bathed Jase in it, washing away every trace of blood from his hair and skin, even trying to rinse out his mouth for him. His clothes were too stained to save, so he discarded them and dressed Jase in some fresh clothes before laying him on his bed in the wagon and continuing them on their way, releasing him from his mindless state. Though the Doll seemed to be exhausted and fell victim to sleep immediately.

Hours passed and Jase rolled over with a moan. His head seemed to be pounding and he cradled it before slowly sitting up and looking around He crawled over and slid open the wooden panel to look out at Undertaker, "…What happened..?"

Undertaker looked back over his shoulder at him, and he gave him a bright smile. The sun was beginning to set, casting an orange glow over the rolling countryside.

"Happy to see you're awake again, love. To answer your question, the bandits found it in their best interest to flee into the woods, once their leader perished. I've chosen a different route than planned; into the mountains. Regrettably, some deaths couldn't be avoided in the skirmish and I'd rather not travel the more open paths to our next destination. How do you feel?"

"…Like I was hit in the head with something…" he sighed, resting his chin on the sill, "…Why'd you change my clothes?"

"Your vest and shirt got torn and soiled, during the altercation. I had to dispose of them."

"And I'm not wearing any underpants because..?" he smirked.

Undertaker grinned and looked ahead again. "I was rather hoping you wouldn't be needing them later."

"…Pervert." Jase commented, a hint of amusement in his tone.

"Yes, I am," agreed the reaper readily. He turned to wink over his shoulder at him. "But I think you like the attention, just a bit."

Jase flushed, "Only from you…" he admitted in a low voice, "I had never expected it…to feel so good…"

Undertaker swallowed, suddenly finding his pants too tight. "Once we find a good spot up in the mountains, we'll stop and make camp for the night. You might want to hold onto something, my dear; as the road is going to get a bit rough up ahead as we go up."

"Mountains? Why'd you change out rout that much?"

"I just told you," answered Chronus, "after our encounter with those sods, I want to take the roads less traveled. I didn't have time to properly dispose of the bodies, and I don't want to travel the open countryside. It will be more difficult to track us on the rough terrain."

"But I never expected the mountains… it's more dangerous, and not only is the roads longer, but slower."

"We've got to improvise, love." Undertaker snapped the reins as they started on the incline. "The only other repute takes us deeper into the forests, which is bandit territory. After what we did to that group that attacked us, you can bet there will be others wanting a piece of our hide, once they find out."

Jase looked down, "…was it that bad?" he asked, looking at the passing scenery, he sighed, "The roads up here get really narrow…you should let me drive if you feel tired, or we should stop to make camp when you do. I'd rather us not fall off a cliff."

"We'll be making camp soon enough," promised Undertaker. "I've no intention of traveling the mountain roads at night, seeing as I'm not familiar with the area. We'll leave at the first light of dawn and take turns at the reins, if you like."

The Frenchman nodded, "Fair enough." He stroked his fingers through his long silver hair, resting back against a crate.

Undertaker sighed predictably with pleasure at the treatment, leaning back for more as the wagon started up the trail. There were a few sparse clouds in the distance, but no immediate threats of thunderstorms.

They traveled in silence a long moment before Jase broke it, "How attached are you to sleeping in that coffin?"

Undertaker grinned. "That would depend on my alternative. Are you offering yourself as a replacement bed, my dear?"

"Don't be silly. I'm way too small to be very comfortable for you." He waved, "But…sharing a bed…"

Undertaker might have laughed with delight, if he weren't so endeared and touched by the offer. He'd been wanting just such a thing, but he'd actually been afraid to say so after the last time he offered to share his coffin and gotten turned down.

"My darling, I think it would be a delight to sleep in your arms each night...even if it's not in a coffin."

"Sleeping in coffins is creepy anyhow—maybe not for Death Gods like you, but I find it creepy—and I'm technically dead anyhow." Jase pointed out, "Beds are much more suited to sleeping…and there's room for two."

"There is if you sleep on top of me," the reaper pointed out stubbornly, "but I suppose I'm not the comfiest of beds, myself."

He navigated around a boulder and he spotted an area up ahead that looked like a promising place to stop for the night. There was a fallen tree that could provide dead wood for a fire.

"I think we've found our camp for the night. Mind getting the feed bags ready for me?"

"Especially with the morning wood you wake up with…" Jase muttered pulling back to ready the feed bags for the horses.

Undertaker nearly fell out of his seat laughing. He somehow managed to contain his mirth enough to steer the horses to the edge of the path, near the dead wood.

"Witty," he complimented between chuckles. He stopped the wagon and hopped down from the driver's seat to secure the reins to one of the live trees nearby.

The young man gave a small chuckle and climbed out with the two feed bags for the horses, "You can't deny it, and it's difficult not to notice before you go hiding your body under those robes."

"Yes," agreed the reaper, still chuckling, "I know my condition can be obvious to the point of obnoxiousness whenever I...ahem...rise to the occasion."

He glanced downward. "A fact I happen to be dealing with right now, thanks to a certain Frenchman's pillow talk," he mumbled.

Jase shrugged, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "It's not my fault you corrupted me. A few months ago I'd be avoiding such a subject." He finished securing the feed bags and sat down on the trunk of the fallen tree.

"Fair enough." Undertaker smiled at him, and he went inside the wagon to rummage for cooking utensils and food. He had about a week's supply of food; mostly grains, dried rations and root vegetables such as carrots, potatoes and turnips that would keep for a while. He scooped up a serving of rice to boil over the fire, along with a potato and a carrot to roast. He spotted one of the bottles of wine in the crate that he'd brought, and he shrugged and grabbed one.

"I feel like celebrating," announced the reaper as he stepped back out of the wagon with his supplies. "Have a glass with me, Jase?"

He usually made tea for the both of them and Jase seemed to find it soothing to drink, even though he couldn't taste it. They hadn't tested wine or spirits yet, and Undertaker was a bit curious to see if it could effect him.

"Wine?" Jase frowned, "I'd never had any apart from a sip during church—the 'blood' of Christ."

"Well then, let's pour you a glass and see if you like it," suggested Undertaker.

He uncorked the bottle and sniffed the bouquet. Nodding in approval, he poured two cups and handed one to his companion. "The only people that can make a red as good as the French are the Italians. Try sipping it, and let it roll around on the tongue, if you can detect the flavor. It's the best way to appreciate a good wine."

He took a sip from his and he savored it before setting it down on the ground to gather wood for the camp fire.

The doll nodded and looked at the wine in his glass. Slowly, he took a sip, eyes widening in surprise at the taste. It was faint, but stronger than the tartare his lover often made for him. A sweet bitterness. That alone made him let it linger on his tongue, a small smile on his face.

Before that moment, the only things he'd been able to taste was the blood and flesh of a sinful human—and ever so slightly the meat of an animal when it'd been hardly cooked. But, maybe the church had something right, saying that red wine was representative of the blood of Christ. It didn't taste of blood, of course. It lacked that metallic flavor. But it was also similar in its strange mix of bitter-sweetness. He let the first sip slide down his throat and took a second, slightly larger sip.

Undertaker glanced up from his task after getting the fire started. "How is it, love?"

"Like blood." He stated before he could catch himself, and realizing what he had said the second it escaped. Freezing, he swallowed thickly, "I—I mean…it's similar—as in I can actually taste it! M-more than the Tartare, but not quite as much as flesh and blood—Ah…" he smacked his forehead. He wasn't helping his case. Could he not even speak of food and drink as a normal human would anymore? He sounded so cannibalistic…

The reaper gave him a gentle smile; different from his usual, toothy grins of mirth or madness. "I understand what you mean, darlin'. No need to get so flustered."

He got to his feet, now that the fire was crackling, and he walked over to retrieve his own cup and take a seat beside the doll on the log. He took his hat off and set it down beside himself, before lifting his cup to Jase in offering.

"Cheers, my love. Here's to discovering more treats you can enjoy."

"More treats _we_ can enjoy." He smiled, lifting his glass, "It can't be very enjoyable for you knowing that even when I do have tea or food I can't taste with you, that you are the only one who can enjoy it."

"It does sadden me, at times," admitted the silver-haired man, "but it's very rewarding when we find something you can enjoy."

He sipped his wine and he gave the Frenchman's knee an affectionate squeeze, before returning his attention to preparing his meal. He got the rice started first, and then he peeled and cubed the vegetables. Once he had it all cooking, he noticed that Jase's cup was empty and he refilled it, before joining him again.

"Thank you." Jase smiled, leaning over and warmly resting his head against the reaper's shoulder, "I'm sorry I can't properly enjoy most of your cooking, though…"

"You've nothing to be sorry for," said the taller man, stroking his hair. "As long as I have you, I'm happy."

He smiled thoughtfully and sipped his wine again, amazed by how deeply he'd fallen in love with a being that he'd initially considered an experiment. Each day he discovered something new about Jase, but he was more excited for the doll when these things occurred than he was for the discovery itself.

Undertaker turned his head to nuzzle his small companion's hair. "I'm glad you enjoy the wine, my dear."

Jase lowered his glass from his lips and blushed, turning his head up to press a kiss firmly against the reaper's lips.

Undertaker's first response was to kiss him back arduously, of course. He chastised himself for letting his passions rule his head when the sound of bubbling rice reminded him that he had food cooking.

"Oh, excuse me, lovely," he said against the doll's lips, and he tore himself away from the kiss to see to the food.

The doll gave off a whine of protest, but straightened up and said nothing as he watched his lover tend to the food. He took another sip—well, what he thought was a sip, finishing off half the glass of wine, and hardly noticed the fuzzy light-headedness fogging his mind.

Undertaker played up his meal, unwrapped his eating utensils and rejoined his companion on the log. He set the wooden plate aside to let it cool and he impulsively refilled Jase's cup and topped up his.

"Mmm, this is nice, he sighed with appreciation, taking another sip. He stroked the doll's hair and he watched the sun begin to set behind the mountains. "I think we picked a good spot to camp for the night."

"Mmhm…" Jase slumped back over, once again leaning against the reaper's shoulder, a smile on his face as he rested his hand on Chronus' knee.

Undertaker placed a long hand over Jase's smaller one, and he smiled. Perhaps he'd become domesticated, but he rather enjoyed pampering his sweet love and trying to build a life with him. He sipped his wine and thought about how blissful it would be, to settle down somewhere on the French countryside with Jase.

His expression darkened a moment later. There was still the matter of a traitor to deal with; and he was still a fugitive. No matter where he went, the threat of Shinigami authorities would remain hanging over him and his lover, like a dark pall.

Undertaker looked sidelong at his companion, and his grim thoughts were interrupted by the realization that he'd already drank half his cup of wine. He could see by the relaxed pose that Jase was starting to feel the effects if the drink, and he smirked. For a brief moment, he considered cutting him off...but there were so few consumables these days that gave the doll genuine pleasure.

Undertaker had never dealt in moderation. He reached for the half-empty bottle and nodded at Jase's cup.

"Here, let me refresh that for you, love."

Jase's smile grew with a little giggle-like noise as he held up his glass as it was refilled. His hand a little unsteady, but he managed another sip without spilling before letting out a sigh and taking Undertaker's free hand in his. "…Yer cute…" he slurred in an overly heavy French accent.

The reaper almost snorted into his drink with amusement. ' _And you're drunk, my darling one.'_

Aloud, he said: "Not nearly as cute as you are, my dear." He gave him an affectionate smooch, before putting down his wine and reaching for his plate of food.

Jase only smiled and nuzzled his cheek against the reaper's shoulder, simply wanting to have that contact—to cuddle.

Undertaker somehow managed to balance his plate in his lap and eat one-handed, grinning with adoration all the while. He quite enjoyed how cuddly his companion was being, and he put an arm around him as he ate his meal. While he'd been looking forward to the possibility of making love to him again, he wasn't about to take advantage of his drunken state. He stroked his hair and contented himself with the contact.

"You'll need to drink extra water before bed," he said thoughtfully between bites. "As lovely as wine is to drink, too much will dehydrate you and leave you with a nasty hangover in the morning."

"But I drink water all the time!" he protested, "And spend half the day peeing."

The reaper nearly choked on his food, and he hastily put it aside to grab his drink. Chuckling around a mouthful of food and wine, he washed it all down and gave a shrug.

"I won't try to force you, love. I just don't want you to spend all day tomorrow puking and holding your head."

Jase set his glass down and flopped over, placing his head in the man's lap, "I won't."

Undertaker stared down at the brunet's head, blinking. "Er, while I've been fantasizing about your head in this very position, I had another circumstance in mind..."

"Mm? What kind?" Jase looked up at the reaper with an innocent look on his face. It was quite clear that sex was the last thing from his mind.

Undertaker suffered an uncommon blush, feeling like the old pervert Jase so often teasingly accused him of being...or at least he _hoped_ he was teasing.

"Nothing," he said, reaching down to give Jase a fond pat on the head. "It isn't important, love. Just relax there while I finish eating."

"Mmkay…" he curled up, hugging the reaper's upper legs as he used them as a pillow. He let out a long sigh, watching the flames of the fire from behind his blindfold which was still in place, though the sun had set enough that the light wouldn't hurt his eyes.

"Chronus…" The Doll spoke after a moment of comfortable silence, being broken only by the cackle of the fire, "Are you happy?"

"Absolutely," assured the reaper, pausing to swallow food before answering. "Being a bit macabre comes with the territory for a grim reaper, but I think your fluency has kept me from slipping into darker places, my dear."

"Good…I want you happy…your smile seems sad sometimes…" he sighed.

"Does it?" Undertaker finished his meal and he put the plate down to stroke Jase's hair. He was so accustomed to hiding behind the smiles and laughs, it never occurred to him that someone might see through it. Then again, his blindfolded dollie had a way of seeing him better than anyone else.

The doll nodded and moved to get up, swaying slightly from the motion. "It does." He leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, "I'd rather see the happy ones…"

Undertaker smiled. "Then here's one for you." He kissed him back with feeling, forgetting about his lusty desires in favor of simple, sweet romance.

Jase smiled into the kiss, content in just staying in his lover's arms as he slipped into his lap, the warm firelight behind him creating a glow effect around him in the growing darkness of the evening.

Undertaker cuddled him, kissed him and stroked his hair until the fire died and Jase fell asleep in his arms. He lifted the doll carefully and he carried him over and into the wagon to lay him down in the bedding next to his coffin. He paused to gaze down at him, and he lowered his head to present him with a kiss on the forehead, before moving away to exit the structure. He bumped his head painfully on the doorframe before exiting and he barely muffled his curse in time before it slipped out.

"Clumsy," he scolded himself as he stepped down from the wagon and began to clean up the campsite.

He took the feedbags off the horses and he brushed them both down, before checking their hooves. Satisfied that the shoes were still in good condition, he climbed back into the wagon and put everything away as quietly as he could.

Jase stirred at the sound of the cooking pot clanging against the utilities when the reaper put everything back, and Undertaker quickly assured him nothing was wrong.

"Sorry for the noise, love," he murmured in the dim lantern light. "I'm just putting things away."

Jase blinked, somewhat confused. He reached out, pulling on the reaper's robes, "Come to bed… clean up in the morning…" he pleaded, feeling lonely.

"I'm finished, love," promised Undertaker, and he lay down beside the doll and embraced him. He kissed him softly and rubbed his back.

Jase smiled, snuggling into the reaper's chest as he lay down next to him on the small make-shift bed, "Good…" he closed his eyes, letting sleep take him once more to his dreams.

* * *

 

Undertaker wasn't surprised to wake up first, the next morning. He pressed a kiss against his small companion's head, and he sat up to stretch the kinks in his muscles out. The bedding wasn't as comfortable as his padded coffin, but the trade-off of sleeping in his lover's arms was worth it to him. He stroked Jase's hair-which he had freed from its ponytail last night after the doll fell asleep-and he got up to ready some bath water for them.

According to his maps, there was a mountain stream not a full day's travel from there. They could stop and refill their water supply before camping again for the night. The next settlement was perhaps three days away, unless they took turns driving all through the night.

Undertaker wasn't in a particular hurry to get anywhere while the supplies were plentiful, but then, the sooner they reached their destination, the better. He went to the back of the wagon where they kept two water barrels, and he filled the bath pale. He then procured the soap and the sponge, and he proceeded to strip down.

Jase moaned as he awoke, rolling over right out of the bed. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed his head, Standing up, he stepped out of the wagon into the crisp mountain air, his light blue shirt unbuttoned and half tucked in from sleeping. "Chronus?"

Undertaker paused and glanced over his shoulder at the open door. "I'm inside, lovely," he called. "Behind the divider."

True, the wagon had limited space, but there was a little alcove with swinging shutter doors that Undertaker had rearranged for bathing purposes after the last village; more for Jase's modesty than his own. He grinned to himself as he lathered up his pale skin. Funny how he didn't think to do that until _after_ they had copulated.

Jase turned around again and went back in, "…I forgot we had that thing…are you bathing?"

"Mm-hmm," answered the reaper leisurely, "why don't you come join me?"

He had his hair pinned up to keep it out of the way and he dipped the sponge into the water before lathering it some more.

"I doubt there's space." Jase flushed, "I could go for a walk while you finish up in there."

Undertaker chuckled, not really surprised by the young man's reluctance. They could both squeeze into the space, though it would be a little snug. He was sure his companion knew it too, but he was still an endearingly shy fellow. Even after the things they'd done together, he knew it would take more time for Jase to let go of his inhibitions enough to get naked with him on a whim. He didn't press the issue.

"Suit yourself, darlin'. Just be a dear and give Penelope and Bumper some feed, and don't stray too far from the camp. I'll leave everything here for you so you can bathe too, while I have breakfast. We'll need to get back on the road by mid-morning, if we're to reach the next scheduled stop by supper time."

Jase nodded, "Of course…call for me when you are out." he said, tucking in his shirt and climbing out once more into the fresh morning. He tended to the horses quickly before he set off down a trail into the wooded area near where they had stopped to make camp.

Birds sang in the trees overhead, and rodents scampered around, searching for seeds to eat. He even saw a rabbit before it disappeared into the brush, startled by his footsteps. Jase chuckled, finding the atmosphere relaxing, and the cold air helped clear his head.

Deeper in, where the path became overgrown with vegetation, Jase spotted a group of berry bushes in the distance, Interested, he walked over to them and crouched down. Not poisonous. He didn't know their name, but he remembered eating these same berries as a young boy, and a good number of them looked ripe. With a smile, he removed his shirt and tied the sleeves around his hips so that it looked like an apron. He then held up the ends and began to pick a good amount. He even popped one in his mouth, though he, of course, couldn't taste it. But Undertaker would be able to. And he would be able to enjoy the subtle sweetness they added to anything the man may cook for himself.

Undertaker finished bathing, and he changed into a clean outfit before tucking what he'd been wearing before into the laundry basket and securing the lid shut. He let his hair down, combed his special herbal mixture through it to loosen and remove oil and dust, and he plopped his top hat on. That done, he took a serving of oatmeal from the food supply and he mixed water through it, before leaving the wagon to start another small campfire and finish making breakfast.

After collecting a decent batch of berries, Jase sat on a stump, admiring the scenery before he got up to head back, in case he had gone too far to hear his lover's call. He ducked under branches as he came back out into the camp site and smiled at the reaper, "I found you some berries."

Undertaker looked up from the small fire he'd started and the pot he was stirring over it, and he smiled toothily at him. "Oh, the non-poisonous variety, I hope. Not that it could kill me if they weren't, but indigestion could be an ugly thing on the road."

Jase rolled his eye, "Yes, because I'd like so very much to poison my l-lover…" he blushed walking over, his make-shift apron lifted like a skirt, "I ate these as a kid all the time, no harm came to me from them."

Undertaker chuckled and he picked the offerings out of the shirt. "In that case, thank you kindly for looking after your Chronus. This is very thoughtful, my dear."

He added the treat to his oatmeal and he sniffed at the aroma they made, his mouth watering a little. "I was resigned to a bland, boring meal. This should flavor it up nicely."

Jase smiled, blushing lightly as he bent over and pressed a kiss to the man's cheek before hurrying to get himself washed up.

Undertaker watched him go for a moment, wearing a smitten grin on his scarred face. "You're the one that's cute, love," he called out to the doll, before returning his attention to his cooking.

Jase paused halfway into the wagon, "What?" The night before was a little fuzzy—there were parts of it he couldn't quite remember—and calling the reaper 'cute' was one of them.

Undertaker cast a wink over his shoulder at him, though it was hidden underneath his bangs. "You called me cute last night, when you were cuddling me. You're very affectionate when you're in your cups. I enjoyed every moment of the snuggles, I assure you."

Jase blushed harder and hurried in for his sponge bath. It seemed that wine loosened his tongue more than he'd anticipated if he had said such a thing so openly. Though…it wasn't as if they were in public…so it was fine.

Chuckling with fond amusement again, Undertaker finished heating his breakfast and after spooning it up into a bowl, he put the kettle on to boil some tea. He stirred his oatmeal and spooned up a bite, blowing on it before putting it into his mouth.

"Mmm," he mumbled in approval after an experimental taste. He scooped up another mouthful eagerly. He began to eat with gusto and he made a mental note to kiss Jase silly for his thoughtful gesture.

After about ten minutes, the Doll remerged, freshly cleaned and dressed casually in clean clothes, wearing no vest and keeping the first two buttons open on his shirt. His hair, as usual, was tied back, and his eyes hidden away from the world.

Jase was almost immediately set upon by his tall lover, before he could take more than two steps toward the campfire. Undertaker took him into his arms and dipped him backwards without warning. The doll barely got the chance to gasp in surprise before Chronus covered his mouth in a deep kiss of gratitude.

"Chr—nn! Mmmh…" The stiff, shocked young man melted into the kiss, though he was confused as to why he suddenly found himself in such a position. He slipped his arms up around his lover, his lips moving against Chronus' as his breath was stolen away by the deep kiss.

Undertaker took his time plundering the Frenchman's mouth, until he was in a rampant state of arousal himself and Jase was like putty in his arms. He finally broke the kiss with a grin, and he helped the doll regain his balance.

"That's for the berries," he said. "Now, let's have a spot of tea before we plod along, shall we?"

"Ah—" he stood stunned in his spot a moment longer, "B-berries? But they were just berries! It's…not that special…" he stated, still clearly stunned.

Undertaker couldn't help but laugh, and he turned back around to face him, taking his hat off of a flourish before offering a graceful bow that threatened to make his long, trailing silver locks brush against the dirt.

"My dear, those weren't 'just berries' to the likes of old Chronus." He straightened back up and replaced his hat, grinning broadly. "They were a delicious gift brought to me by my one and only. As I've told you before: gifts are a rarity to the likes of me...especially the ones from the heart. I adore you all the more for it."

With that bit of poetic exuberance stated, he went to pour the tea.

"I…I just thought it'd be nice…" Jase muttered, walking over to sit next to his lover, "And if one of us can taste it, why pass up on free, fresh food?"

"You seem to have trouble accepting sincere gratitude," observed the reaper, pouring Jase's tea and handing it to him. "It was a thoughtful gesture because you stood to gain nothing from it yourself, save perhaps a pike from some thorns. Can't you just accept my gratitude for the thought?"

"I…" Jase flushed in embarrassment, "I just didn't think it was that big a deal, is all… I'm sorry…" he looked down into the tea. Truthfully, he simply wasn't used to such gratitude. His father certainly had never showed him such a thing even once. With close friends, he'd usually simply get a hug at most, and as a priest, he'd receive a 'Thank you, father'. To have anyone, no matter who it was, express it so deeply, even over a small handful of berries…

Undertaker paused after setting the kettle back, and he laid a hand on Jase's knee. "Mayhap I express myself too much. It seems I'm cursed with a childish excitement for the simplest acts of kindness, my dear. I'm used to fear, not affection. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"I'm not saying I didn't like it! I…am just not used to it…" Jase insisted.

Undertaker put an arm around him and gave him a squeeze and a pat. "Seems we've both got some things to get used to, love. Part of the growth process, I suppose."

He shifted away from him to pour himself some tea, and he stared into the cup as if seeking his fortune. "Last night, you asked if I was happy. I answered sincerely when I said I am, but I never thought to ask you the same question. Are you happy with me, my love?"

The Doll set down his cup of chilled tea, turning and pacing his hands on either side of the reaper's face, "When I first awoke to this new life you gave me…I didn't think I would be all that happy. But I was going to make best I could of the situation…but you have proven that wrong…" he leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips, pulling back with a small smile, "You were so insistent on making me happy…that it worked. I'm happier with you than I have ever been in my human life."

Undertaker smiled at that, and he turned his head to kiss the smaller man's palm. "I never had a human life, but I've never known this sort of happiness before. Laughter was all I had to look forward to, before you came along."

"As long as you aren't laughing at me, I hope that this can still bring you those laughs and smiles." The Frenchman nearly purred, "I mean it when I say I love you…"

Undertaker answered that with a kiss, hopelessly smitten with him. He drew him into his arms and he held Jase close, wishing this moment would never end.

Unfortunately, all good things had to end sometime. A crow flew overhead and cawed urgently while they were lip-locked. To the average man, it was only the sound of a bird; but the ancient reaper had learned the language of birds long ago. Like their larger raven cousins, they were friends to Undertaker, and though other reapers sometimes used them for communications, they recognized his seniority and were loyal to him, first.

Undertaker pulled away from his companion with a frown, recognizing the warning in that call. He didn't want to alarm his companion, so he didn't tell him the news that Shinigami authorities had tracked them down to Joy's village and were spotted questioning the residents there. Even worse; they had located the bodies of the fallen bandits.

"Much as I'd love to go on kissing and cuddling you all day long," he said with a forced smile, "we must be on our way. We'll stop to refill our water supplies when we find the stream that runs through these mountains, but I think we'll make better time if we take shift driving the horses instead of bedding down somewhere for the night, hmm?"

"Why?" Jase questioned as he was ushered up onto the drivers bench, Undertaker following quickly after making sure the horses were secured. "Did you not like sharing a bed last night? I know I was under the influence of the wine, but I didn't think I pushed you out of the bed at all…"

"You should know by now that my affection for you is boundless," assured Chronus as he snapped the reins and got the horses moving. He gave Jase a one-armed embrace as he drove. "You did nothing wrong; I just want to make good time and put more distance between us and the bandits we took down."

He kept an eye on the road as he nuzzled Jase's hair. "Stay up here with me for as long as you like, if it isn't too uncomfortable for you. You can nap against me if you get tired."

"I prefer it up here. The wagon gets stuffy sometimes, and that window is quite small…it's much easier to hold a conversation out here. Besides, the sun feels good, even if it heats me up a little faster."

"We'll just have to make sure your canteen has water in it at all times," said the reaper. He urged the animals to move faster as they approached an incline. "Let's just hope the weather stays nice. I'll keep you cool, love."

Undertaker accentuated his point by dropping his body temperature, and a chill mist formed around him.

"Does that ever make you too cold?" Jase wondered out loud, leaning over to rest against the chilly reaper. "You can feel temperature, right? Or…does my body heat help?"

"I can feel temperature," confirmed Undertaker with a nod, "but I'm accustomed to the chill, and your body heat does make it more comfortable. If I expend too much energy maintaining it, I can grow fatigued...but I would need to be generating quite a powerful chill for that to happen. When I had to cool you down on the train, I fell into a deep slumber. The same happened after you healed me; though I was already weak from my fight and my injuries."

The Doll sighed, "I wish they'd stop chasing you…The crimes they want you for are in the past… I mean, I understand why they don't stop, but…you are a good person with a good heart…"

Undertaker laughed before he could help himself. "You give me too much credit, my dear. While it's true enough I'm not a force of evil, neither am I a force for good. Would a good hearted man animate the dead and sell them to the highest bidder, knowing the buyers intend to use them as weapons?"

"Most men can't. I'd be surprised if there was a man out there who is not you who could animate the dead at all. Intentions behind it aside. Even if you did it for a profit, it doesn't mean you don't have a good heart. Men do good things for evil, and men do evil things for good. Yesterday is an example of that. You killed those bandits to help save us. You did evil in the name of good."

Undertaker grinned at him. "My, you do have an interesting way of looking at the world. You almost think like a Shinigami."

The road up ahead curved sharply, and he took his arm away from around the doll to direct the horses with both hands. The same crow from earlier flew by, inspecting them curiously. Undertaker chose to take advantage of it and he called out in it's language, commanding it to fly back the way they had come from and investigate the trail more closely.

He needed to know how close their pursuit was getting, and if they were still on their trail. He put double the effort into masking their presence, but he knew he would begin to tire more quickly by doing so.

"Jase, love, I'm feeling a little under the weather today," he improvised, "so I may need you to take the reins before lunch. I can show you the route through the mountains I've chosen when we stop at the stream to refill the water supplies. I've marked it on the map and written it in my journal."

Jase nodded, "Did you have too much wine last night? Maybe it'd be best if we don't drink that until we reach the cottage." He suggested.

Undertaker smirked at him. "I only had little more than a glass, pet. You, on the other hand, sucked down three. I've simply been expending a lot of energy masking us, and I'll need resting periods to keep my strength up, until we put satisfactory distance between ourselves and the village."

He leaned over for a quick kiss on Jase's cheek. "By the way; how does your head feel? Are you up for driving a bit later?"

"Its better…taking a walk helped it get clear. It didn't really hurt, just felt fuzzy and slow."

"Well, perhaps your head will feel clearer by the time we make our stop for more water."

They rode on, gradually ascending the mountain paths. Undertaker had to steer clear of some falling rocks at one point, and after a couple of hours, he had to hop out of the driver's seat to guide the horses up on foot, as the trail became too steep and narrow to navigate from the seat. He had Jase climb down to walk ahead of him for his own safety.

Once the path widened and the terrain leveled out more, it was safe to get back onto the wagon again. Undertaker heard the call of a familiar crow as they started moving again, and he smiled with relief as he listened to it cawing.

The dispatch agents searching for them were going a different way, now. They'd shaken off pursuit once again. He was so ecstatic that he waved off the dizziness as a symptom of giddiness, at first...then his vision blurred and everything started to go dark.

It had been so long since he'd used his cloaking abilities so intensively for such an extended time period that he forgot just how draining it could be.

"Jase," he said faintly, thrusting the reins blindly at him, "take over, darling...I fear I...I..."

He toppled from his seat before he could finish speaking, his hat falling to the floor of the seat. Its owner wasn't so fortunate; Undertaker rolled out of the cart and fell to the dirt road, unconscious before he even hit the ground.

"Chronus!" Jase pulled the wagon to a stop and hurried down. The wagon wheel had stopped just before it would have hit the reaper, and Jase grunted as he pulled the man out from under it, sitting him up, "Chronus!" he felt his forehead and listened to his heartbeat—he seemed fine…

Sighing, Jase moved to open the door to the wagon and then worked with difficulty to move the lengthy reaper up into the wagon. It took him far too long to do so, and by the time the reaper was in the wagon, Jase was too tired to put him up onto the bed. So, he took a pillow and placed it under his head for some form of comfort. "…you're way too heavy to be doing this on me…" he muttered, getting out and moving to the driver's bench once more.

Undertaker remained in a deep, dreamless sleep for the rest of the day, overcome by the constant use of potent, dark powers that few-if any-other reapers could invoke. Shinigami weren't prey to mortal illness, true, but starvation, dehydration and exhaustion could weaken and sicken them...as was the case with the ancient reaper, as he lay helpless in a partial coma state.

His small lover couldn't know this, though. Undertaker-or Chronus, as he went by more often now-had never explained the peculiarities of reaper anatomy in great detail to him. As such, poor Jase was left to worry and navigate on his own, while Undertaker lay in a stupor.

Not needing nourishment, Jase rode late into the night, stopping only to stretch his legs and refill his canteen while the horses fed themselves for a short while. Finally, he grew too tired and he pulled over, readying the horses for the night and climbing into the wagon, stepping over his lover still upon the floor. He removed his clothes and slipped into his pajamas before settling down for the night on the edge of the bed. He had considered joining Chronus on the floor, but there wasn't enough space, even with his small size. But once he was lying down, it didn't take long before he drifted off himself.

* * *

To be continued...


	19. Chapter 19

The reaper didn't wake up again until the sun began its early morning climb. His mouth was extremely dry and his muscles felt weak, his limbs uncoordinated. He groaned softly and rolled over onto his stomach, getting onto his hands and knees.

 _'What happened?'_ he wondered, shaking his head to clear it. The last thing he recalled was tossing the reins to Jase, before darkness claimed him. His hair spilled around him in a silver tangle as he tried to get his bearings and climb to his feet.

"Jase?" He called out, suddenly worried.

"Mm-m…" Jase, still exhausted from his drive late into the night, rolled over, hiding deep within his dreams, pulling the sheets up over him to block out the light that came in through the still open window near the driver's seat. He'd forgotten to close it.

Hearing the sleepy voice, Undertaker lifted his head to see the lump that was his lover, shifting in the bedding. He sighed, relieved that he was okay. He struggled to his feet and he looked out the window, his legs nearly buckling beneath him. It looked to be early morning, by the chatter of birds and the position of the sun. He had no idea where they were now, but he didn't want to wake his companion to ask. He'd probably scared the dickens out of him yesterday and he beat himself up inwardly for straining himself into a near coma.

"Can't be doing that again," he mumbled. It might have stopped Dispatch from tracking them further, but he'd weakened himself in the process and left Jase unprotected as a result. Yes, the doll could clearly defend himself from humans, but he wouldn't last long against trained, professional reapers.

"At least now you know your limits, old chap," he muttered to himself. He'd never had a reason to fully test them before.

Undertaker looked at the huddle of his lover beneath the sheets, and he smiled. "How in Styx did you manage to get me in here on your own?" He whispered. Jase was very strong for his size, but Undertaker was a lot of reaper to haul, lanky or not.

He decided he'd make it up to Jase with some fresh meat. Hunting came rather easy to him, seeing as he could sense and track living things, and cut them down before they could feel any pain. He hadn't done so yet because he'd been able to buy meat in settlements they passed through, and though he could freeze the meat with his abilities, he had nowhere to store it to keep it that way.

Small game like rabbits could suffice, though. He could make a stew for himself and prepare the rest raw for Jase.

Undertaker started for the door, but he had to catch himself as his legs wobbled. "Hunting later," he muttered. Right now, he needed food and drink to regain his strength. This must have been what it was like for Jase, when he first awoke as a doll.

Jase remained sleeping, settling back down once the sounds of morning birds were tuned out. Though his dreams seemed less kind; taking a turn towards the darkness and throwing him into a more fitful sleep.

The small Frenchman found himself standing naked in a courtroom, his own Father he hadn't seen in years looking down from a high bench; a powdered wig upon his balding head, and his drunken gaze sizing the Doll up with disgust.

Words were being exchanged, though Jase found himself unable to comprehend any of it as the sounds of voices melded together into white noise, growing louder and louder until he fell to his knees, covering his ears to protect them.

And then, silence. Jase opened his eyes and lowered his hands from his ears, turning his head to look up. His father had moved and towered above him, angel-white wings growing from his—and all the other faceless figures' backs. Jase gasped, falling back and scrambling away, but his father, who had suddenly grown quite gigantic, reached down, picking him up and holding him in the palm of his hand. The man's mouth parted, and Jase feared he'd be eaten for a second before the man spoke; "Impure. You sinful monster, how dare you continue to live an unnatural life after wasting the one your mother had given you!" White flames sprang from the man's hand, surrounding and engulfing the Doll. Jase cried out as he felt the heat, seeing his father's laughing face slowly fade.

"NO!" Jase screamed, sitting up in bed, sweat sizzling and evaporating off his skin as it formed. He panted, feeling dizzy, but afraid to move as his body heat continued to climb, causing his vision to blur.

No, no this wasn't good…if he could feel the heat…then… He needed water—cold water. He pulled himself out of bed, his hands and knees leaving scorch marks on the wooden floor as he crawled to the wash basin, shakingly picking it up and pouring the water over himself.

* * *

 

 

Undertaker had just finished the last bite of his bread roll when he heard the cry from inside. He bolted to his feet, nearly choking on his food as his adrenaline rush lent strength to his shaky legs.

"Jase?" He called urgently as he yanked the door open and went inside. He found the doll lying on the floor, soaked. The wash bucket was rolling on its side, and steam arose from Jase's body as the liquid evaporated quickly from his skin. Forgetting all about his own ailments, the reaper went to his knees and he scooped his lover up, hissing at the heat radiating from him.

"Oh love, don't do this to me," he muttered, calling on death's chill to cool him. He stroked aside the doll's bangs, now lined with frost. "I'm here," he crooned.

He had no idea what set it off, except perhaps exhaustion. Maybe the doll hadn't drank enough water while he drove the wagon. Undertaker blamed himself; if he hadn't insisted that they keep moving, Jase might not have driven so long and taken better care of his own needs.

He held him close and he ignored the discomfort of the cold, dropping the temperature to frigid levels that would have set a mortal's teeth to chattering.

Jase panted, his breath coming past his lips as small puffs of cloudy heat in the chilled air. But unlike on the train, he was still conscious and aware of his surroundings. Chronus was holding him close, and he shifted into his touch, "…'ronus…" he moaned, "…s-sorry…"

The reaper shook his head and he pressed a kiss to the scar on Jase's forehead.

"Don't be. This isn't your fault. Just rest easy, my dear. We'll get you cooled down."

He spotted Jase's canteen near the bedding and he scooched over to it, bringing his companion with him. He shifted Jase into a more comfortable position on his lap and he unscrewed the container with one hand, before bringing it to the doll's lips. "Drink, love."

Jase let the water slide down his throat, cooling his insides down a little faster as the icy chill worked from the outside. He drank deeply, greedily, finishing off the water in his supply before letting it be removed from his lips. "…Morning…" he tried to smile, despite the heat he could still feel, though it was starting to fade.

Undertaker's smile took to his ears in his relief. "Good morning to you, my love." He kissed his nose, his eyelashes, and finally his lips. "You gave me a bit of a fright."

"I gave myself one too…" he said on a sigh as his breathing started to calm, "…Had a nightmare…woke up feeling I was on fire."

Undertaker stroked his hair. "What was it about? We can talk about it, if you wish."

"…It was my father…" he whispered, "Or…an angel who looked like him…I was in a courtroom full of angels…they said I was impure and my father started to burn me in his hand…I woke up feeling like those flames were real…" he whispered, taking a few long pauses as he thought back to it. "It…was so strange…I'd had angel-related nightmares before, but…"

Undertaker held him tighter. "You aren't impure, dear one. Even if it was a message and not just a dream, it's been my experience that some angels are blinded by their own light. They either can't see or don't care that their actions are harming innocents."

"Aren't I literally burning proof of that?" Jase smirked. He sighed and looked at the mess he'd made. The water on the floor, as well as the scorch marks that showed perfect prints of his hands where he had crawled to the wash bin. His gaze lingered there before he raised his hand to look at it, "…I could have set this wagon on fire…" he realized.

"But you didn't," said Undertaker. "All is well, my dear. You're safe, and the damage can be cleaned up."

He rocked him in his arms impulsively, content to just hold him for a while. "I love you, even if you _are_ too hot for your own good."

He chuckled at his own pun.

"Well it's a good thing you can be as cold as the winter." Jase smiled, wrapping his arms around his icy lover. "...but I may have wasted our water supply…"

"If it kept you from burning up, it isn't wasted," insisted the ancient. We have two storage barrels, and even if you did not get the opportunity to refill them while I was incapacitated, I believe there is another mountain stream on our route. I just need to work out where we are on the map, and then I can figure the distance to it."

He nuzzled the doll's hair. "When you're feeling better, you can show me where we've stopped."

"…I'm not even sure where we stopped…" he admitted, "I tried following your map, but I was getting tired…I hope I haven't gotten us lost…" he looked up at his lover, "Are you feeling better? You collapsed so suddenly…almost got run over when you fell, too…"

"Did I? Well, it wouldn't have killed me, if I had. Yes, I'm feeling better. I exhausted myself using my powers too freely. Cloaking us for that long took its toll on old Chronus, is all. Sorry for worrying you, love."

He gave him another kiss. "I'll step outside with the map in a little while and compare the landscape. I am confident I'll be able to work out our location, so don't fret."

"Well, we'll just have none of that anymore. You were heavy and difficult to get inside, my worry for you aside. So take it easy when you start to feel tired."

Undertaker laughed. "As you wish, darlin'. I'd wondered how you managed to get me inside on your own, enhanced strength or not."

He kissed him on the nose. "I'm lucky to have a determined little Frenchman looking after me."

"We're both lucky…" he reached up and touched the reaper's cold cheek, "The longer I know you…the more we are a perfect match in more ways than one. I need you to survive and stay sane…You balance my Heaven-given problems, and hold me back from attacking people unknowingly"

Undertaker laid a hand over the smaller one at his cheek, and he smiled. "And you've brought some warmth into my life that was sorely lacking."

He removed his hand and he shifted the doll in his arms, scooping him up with a grunt to bring him over to the bedding and ease him down. "Now that the danger to you has passed, I'll refill your water canteen and see about getting our bearings."

He pressed one last, lingering kiss to the doll's lips and he straightened back up to grab the forgotten canteen. Inwardly he wished that he could quell the holy fire in him, so that Jase could enjoy a more normal life.

"…Be careful…I think I heard wolves last night." Jase yawned, admittedly still tired from his late night's rest being so heatedly interrupted, "I didn't get to bed before two, I know…So I'm going to attempt to rest a bit more."

"By all means, rest," encouraged the reaper. "I'll have us moving along again soon."

He kissed him on the cheek, and then he went back outside to clean up and check the horses. When he was satisfied that everything was in order, he climbed into the driver's seat and he checked the map. Confident that he had his bearings again, he started off.

They reached a small stream a few hours later, and Undertaker let the horses graze and drink while he went into the wagon to get the pales. He checked on his lover and he gently woke him to make him drink more water...just in case. Jase did so with a zombie-like stupor, not fully waking as he dutifully swallowed down a cupful. The reaper let him go back to sleep after that, and he set to the task of hauling water back and forth from the stream to the two water barrels inside the wagon. Once they were completely full, he re-hitched the horses, gave them both an apple for a treat, and started off again.

He munched the last of his cookies and some dried rations as he drove, not bothering to stop for lunch. There were clouds coming in from the north and he suspected they were in for another spring storm, so he wanted to find a suitably sheltered spot to camp at before the weather got too bad.

Shortly after noon, Jase finally awoke once more, feeling better rested. He sat up with a sigh as the wagon rocked gently as it moved, and he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. His hair, having gotten soaked hours earlier, had long dried, plastered to his head in a rather unsightly tangle. Grabbing his brush, he sat on the bed 'Indian style' and started the long process of working the knots and tangles out, leaving his locks free about his shoulders once he was finished. He then stripped down and changed into some fresh clothes before donning his blindfold and sliding open the wooden panel so he could speak to his reaper lover, "…Is it still morning, or should I wish you a good afternoon?"

Slightly startled by the abrupt inquiry, Undertaker jumped a little in his seat. He turned to look at the doll peering out at him and he smiled. "It's roughly past three now, my dear. Feel free to climb up and join me, if you like."

Jase nodded, "I'll be right out." he said, closing the window and waiting for Undertaker to stop the cart before hopping out and hurrying up to his spot next to his lover, "I slept a lot longer than I had thought, then… You weren't too bored without me, were you?"

"I kept myself company," answered the reaper, grinning. He put one arm around Jase and pulled him close for a cuddle. "Sadly, I admit my own company isn't as engaging to me as it once was."

"Oops, sorry to make you sanely social." The Doll teased, leaning into the embrace, "But you were asking for it."

Undertaker smiled in contentment, more pleased than he could express with the way things were going between him and Jase.

* * *

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, For all Fanart, Art, Sims pics, and more of this fic and Jase in general, please look here:  
> http://undeaddollboy.tumblr.com/tagged/jase-dubois (A big thank you to those of you readers who have been kind enough to draw Jase for me!)
> 
>  
> 
> So I logged on today to a very nice surprise. My RP partner (And co writer of the Death's Doll series and the An Earl and his Informant series Xen wrote and posted a beautiful Oneshot. It takes place in the Death's Doll Universe and is a sort of prequel to the side-pairing in Just a Doll. (It does not spoil anything in Just a Doll, and it works very well as its own story, so you don't have to be a reader of Just a Doll to appreciate it.) I just finished reading it and It's so fluffy and perfect and my heart is Throbbing for Slingphries~ You should all go check it out!
> 
> Fic Info:  
> Rated: M  
> Summary: When Eric Slingby partnered up with promising young Dispatch agent Alan Humphries, he didn't expect such an enduring friendship to grow out of it, nor did he expect to fall in love. After finding out that his partner is cursed with the Thorns of Death, he vows to share his suffering and be there with him until the end.
> 
> http://xenobiacat.deviantart.com/art/Until-the-End-EricXAlan-ficlet-426734149  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10019875/1/Until-the-End  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1134472


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was such a pain to me (TiBun) Yesterday, I opened it up to go over it before posting and... THE DOCUMENT WAS BLANK! Oh I cried. I spent hours yesterday finding in my DA archives (Notes) where Xen and I had RPed these 11 pages, copied them all one by one and pasting them into MSword in the right order before I could go over editing it twice. Once to do what I usually do as we RPed the scene, and another to try and catch any spelling/grammar errors, which i know i don't catch them all, but I try) Then, after I did all that work finding the base for the chapter again...I found out Xen kept a copy of her own. OTL I should have just asked her first! Well anyway, here's the cute and fluffy chapter that I promise is worth the wait!!!

_I have taken to bedding down with my partner...yes, he is my partner now, rather than an object of study. I really should have seen this coming, but alas, one can never predict where one's heart will lead, in the end. We traveled for days, only stopping when necessary to replenish our stores or eat, in my case. We finally reached our destination near Paris and we settled in to our cottage in the countryside. I deliberately chose this location because it is close to the border of neighboring Switzerland, a country I have visited before and am somewhat familiar with. Should we need to leave in a rush, that will be our next destination._

_I dearly hope that we can stay here in Jase's home country for a while. I know how much he has missed it, even though he rarely complained about being away for so long._

* * *

 

 

The cottage had been discovered to be a rather attractive home, but in need of some work, having been left forgotten for so long. A project Jase had adopted into his days when Undertaker was otherwise busy. He first fixed up the inside, a few loose floorboards and the shaky banister to the small one-room upper floor, which they turned into their bedroom. He also fixed up a few things in the kitchen and main room before moving on to the outside, taking care of the overgrowth that threatened to cover doors and windows completely.

The Doll figured he'd been out working in the sun a little too long after a few hours, and not wanting to overheat himself, he moved inside through the back door into the kitchen, and washed his hands in the washbasin before walking into the main room and slipping in behind Undertaker, sliding his arms around the man as he finished writing in his journal.

Undertaker shut the book and laid his hands on top of the ones resting over his chest. "Well hello," he said with a warm smile of greeting, always glad for a snuggle. "Hmm, you feel a bit warm."

'A bit warm' for Jase was a temperature that would have indicated a dangerous fever for a mortal man, but his could escalate much higher before it became a problem for him. Nevertheless, the reaper saw the opportunity for a perfect excuse to hold him. Guessing he wouldn't object too strongly, he swiveled the desk chair around to face him and he manhandled the little Frenchman into his lap with a grin.

"There now," said Undertaker in satisfaction when he had his lover straddling him. He chilled his body for him, giving rise to fog around them. "That's much better, don't you think?"

The Frenchman flushed, "I've been working all morning…and you use it as an excuse to get me into such a compromising position on you?" His accusation held no annoyance, though. He had no reason to fully object. They lived far from any neighbors or the closest town, so it was unlikely that anyone would see two men acting so lewdly with each other, and the chill his lover created for him was something he likely needed.

"Jase...dear Jase...you know I hardly _need_ an excuse to get lewd with you." Undertaker laughed with delight, and he held the doll tighter and nuzzled his throat with silken, chilled lips.

"I miss you," Chronus confessed softly, affection blending with lust.

He avoided letting his hands wander, though he longed to hear this sweet gasps and moans from those lips again. They'd shared countless kisses and cuddles since he claimed Jase's virginity, they hadn't made love again since that night. He didn't hold it against him and he no longer thought of it as him bring a tease, however. He was waiting for him to ask for it again. He enjoyed a good challenge and he understood it would still take some time for the former priest to feel at ease with his own sexuality. Provoking self shame was the last thing he wanted to do.

His lips caressed the heated, soft skin with butterfly-soft kisses, and he stroked his back with one hand and his outer right thigh with the other.

"Do you miss me too, love?" He traced the doll's collarbone with his tongue, before pressing kisses along it.

"D-depends on how you mean…We never spend more than a few hours away from each other, Chronus…" The Doll gasped, veiled eyes closing.

The former priest had surprised himself after the first—and only—time he had lain with his companion, making love and consummating their relationship like a pair of newlyweds. Well, maybe not like newlyweds. They were not married, and neither of them were a woman. But he had no real comparison, and marriage, in the eye of the church, gave the couple the right to take part in such activities. It removed the sin from it. And that was how he'd always seen it. Through the eyes of the church.

They had sinned, not only in being both men, but in being intimate outside marriage. Yet, Jase found himself thinking of that time that pleasurable stormy night when they had become one…and he found himself wanting more—though he never voiced it.

"…Is marriage something your kind practices to create unity between two souls?" The Frenchman asked suddenly.

"Marriage?" Undertaker thought about it. "Some have been known to take mortal wives or in the case of female staff, husbands. Others remain single or they pledge themselves to one mate...which I suppose is like your marriage. I've witnessed a few partnered agents make this pledge before, after working together for so long and falling in love."

"And…gender doesn't matter for them, right? Not like how it matters for humans?"

"Gender really doesn't matter to my kind," agreed Undertaker. "Perhaps it's because our numbers don't depend on sexual reproduction to grow larger, or it could be because not all reapers are reborn the same gender they were in life as a mortal. Whatever the reason, we death gods have never placed gender restrictions on who we can love or bed."

Undertaker smiled and he rubbed his nose against Jase's. "Are you hinting that you want to be mated to me, darlin'?"

"I—I was simply curious!" Jase flushed, though, he knew a part of him wondered if it'd be easier for him to accept his lover sexually more freely and often if they had that symbolic bond of marriage…that devotion.

"Were you?" Undertaker sighed, but the smile didn't leave the eyes hidden beneath his fringe. "What a pity."

He took one of Jase's hands and brought it to his lips, kissing the top of it, the palms and the fingertips. "Because you've made me think of it now," he murmured between kisses, "and to be completely honest with you, my dear, I can't think of another person I'd rather pledge myself to for life. I believe I _would_ marry you, if I could...and I'm certainly willing to become your mate in the Shinigami sense."

Jase was surprised by the man's words, raising his gaze up to look at the reaper. He opened his mouth, letting it linger agape before finally speaking. "You would?"

The reaper had been practically a hermit, from what Jase could tell, before he'd found him dying in the chapel. He spoke to himself and the corpses he worked with. Undertaker had only seemed to be interested in spending time with the living only long enough to make a deal in his underground business of selling Bizarre Dolls. And yet, here he was willing to become a husband? The blush deepened across Jase's cheeks. Had he truly touched the man so deeply after their short time together? January, Feburary, March…April…they were coming upon the end of April—four months of their new lives together, and the man had changed so much?

Undertaker smile grew tender, and he guided the small hand he was holding to his chest, laying it over his heart. "You've touched me where only a select few have before, Jase Dubois. You wriggle your way deeper in each day, but I don't think that's a bad thing, anymore. I'm yours, and I want you to be mine, too. Let's marry...er...so to speak."

Undertaker took a pause before adding; "I should warn you that these vows carry with them a sort of magic, and once we make them, a bond will be formed that can only be broken by death. We'll feel one another's emotions in close proximity, and we will feel each other's pain to some extent when we are injured. You'll also be able to track me, the way I can already track you now. We don't need anyone to preside over the pledge, but you may find the language disturbing and difficult to speak. It's the language of death."

He stroked the doll's hair, still keeping one hand pressed over the one resting on his heart. "Do you want to do this with me, love?"

Jase let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. It all seemed overwhelming…but then again, it was marriage. Making a commitment to one soul for the rest of their lives… Until death do they part. It was the same, really, as a human marriage. The only difference being that they were immortal. There was no guarantee that they would die. For them, it could last an eternity. Until the end of time itself. It was all the more reason to make the commitment with his heart. Humans often wed for status or business. Gaining land and property, usually, especially among the already wealthy. The poor had more a chance to marry for love. Not always, but it happened more often for them.

And these vows contained magic? He was still getting used to the fact that there was such things in the world. They'd be bound together as one through more than words and a band of gold… It seemed all the more meaningful that it was made.

Knowing this, Jase had every right to be a little hesitant, but, again, that was his mind speaking, and not his heart. His heart was saying differently.

He loved Chronus. It was plain and simple. He loved him and needed him for far more than why he had stayed with the reaper in the beginning. Yes, needing the man to control him and keep him cool was still important, but he never focused on those facts anymore. He simply wanted to spend time with him, he wanted his kisses, his words, his company. He wanted to be by his side—for always.

Jase brushed Undertaker's bangs aside, wishing it was night so he could also reveal his own eyes. But he could only hope that the reaper knew they held each other's gaze as he spoke; "And…I can make that vow to you? Even though I'm not an angel of death myself? It would still work if I can learn the words?"

The reaper nodded. "I've seen it happen once before in the long years of my life, dearest. Granted, that was between a witch and a reaper, but if she could do it, I believe you can, too."

He kissed him lovingly on the lips before murmuring: "It's worth a try, no? The words can't physically harm you, though as I said, you may find them frightening to hear and speak. I won't lie; the feint of heart have been known to experience...well, fainting when hearing them. Some even suffer heart attacks, because the ancient tongue is not meant for ordinary mortals to hear or speak."

He traced the doll's pouty, tempting lips with a long, black nail, and he smiled with confidence. "You're no ordinary mortal, though. You aren't mortal at all any more, in fact."

"A Witch—?" no, now was not the time to question whether witches had sold their soul to the devil…it hardly mattered anymore. The world was completely different than what he had thought it was. He shook the stray thought from his mind and focused again on their topic—marriage, or whatever reapers called their version of marriage. It was still one and the same to him. "I want to try…I want to be your husband… And if the reaper way won't work—I…I can marry us, I think…the human way…" he bit his lip, thinking, "As a priest I can perform weddings, and nowhere does it say that a priest loses that ability after death. I'm also no longer a man of the cloth, and therefore I am not required to stay single and celibate. Either way…I want this…if you do."

Undertaker put both arms around him, surprising himself with his own determination to bind himself to this man permanently. "I can't think of anything I would want more, than to hear this sweet voice of yours exchanging vows with me...of any kind. Who says we have to do it only one way? We can do both."

Jase leaned in, his breath mixing with that of his lover's before their lips met. Still stunned that the conversation had gone the way it did, he pulled back, "Obviously, this wasn't planned…and I haven't a ring for you, but…I wish to do this properly…" he knelt down, taking the reaper's hand and kissing his knuckle of the ring finger, "Chronus, will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?"

Delighted with the romantic display, the reaper still couldn't resist teasing him a little.

"Hmm, let me think about that."

When Jase's blindfolded head lifted to regard him with a devastated expression, he immediately felt like an ass.

"Oh darling, don't look that way! I'm just teasing."

Instantly contrite, Undertaker got out of his chair and he knelt with his lover, taking his opposing hand to repeat Jase's actions. "I, Chronus Undertaker, will indeed become your husband...if you still want an old joker like me, that is."

"Don't do that! You were the one who said we could in the first place! You scared me." Jase scolded as he hugged himself to the reaper, "Save the jokes for more appropriate times rather than the heartfelt moments."

Undertaker chuckled and hugged him back. "Sorry about that, pet. I guess I should pick my moments more carefully."

He pulled back to cup Jase's face in his hands. "I do sincerely want to be wed to you, though. I am completely yours, Jase."

With that said, he covered the other man's mouth in a kiss.

Jase smiled into the kiss before chuckling, "And if the reaper way works…maybe we can avoid me attacking you by mistake when I'm trying to save you." He joked.

The remark made Undertaker laugh. "Let's hope so, my dear. Shall we begin your lessons today, or do you need more rest?"

"Rest? It's only noon, and the sooner you start teaching me, the sooner we can try to see if it works for a Doll as it would a reaper or witch."

Undertaker smiled, more pleased than words could say over his willingness. He hugged him close and rocked him, beyond questioning how or why this young man had stolen his heart so completely.

"I love you," he whispered, giving into it completely.

Jase smiled, running his fingers through the reaper's long tresses of silver, "And I love you, mon bien-aimé"

* * *

 

Chronus immediately began to teach Jase the difficult, twisting language of the death gods...at least enough for him to recite his part if the ancient pledge to honor, protect and love his mate until either death claimed him or the end of time came. At first, speaking and listening to the language made him sick...literally. He never passed out from it, but he often ended up hunched over the toilet or running for the bushes, while his worried lover administrated to him.

Undertaker asked more than once if he wanted to stop, but Jase refused; determined to legitimize their relationship in the only way he knew how to. Because he loved him so much, the reaper allowed it; but every time Jase sickened from his efforts, it tore him up inside.

Finally one evening, Jase was able to speak the words without getting sick or making a mistake. Chronus stared at him, overjoyed.

"That's right, love. That's perfect."

"It…really? But I don't even feel queasy in the slightest—I thought I got it so wrong it failed to have an effect on me…" Jase said, sitting up. He'd been laying on the small, but comfortable sofa they had in the main room of the cottage, his head in his lover's lap, and a tin bucket nearby—just in case. He repeated what he'd just said again, his heart fluttering when the reaper gave a nod and smiled, letting him know he got it right again. "Is there anything else we need to make the vows, or simply have the words?"

"We need to dance naked beneath a full moon and wiggle our fingers at each other while chanting it," answered the reaper, hiding a grin as he stroked Jase's hair.

"…You're joking!" Jase stated, cheeks heating up with a flush. At least, he hoped the man was joking.

The reaper laughed aloud and hugged him. "Yes, I'm joking...though a full moon is required for the vows. We'll have one in two days."

"Lets hope I don't lose it by then…" he leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, "Oh! Wait right here!" The Frenchman suddenly hopped up and hurried up the stairs to the bedroom, opening a small, simple box he'd found in the cottage when they had arrived and he pulled out what he had slipped into it before hurrying back down. He then slipped into his lover's lap, knowing the reaper did like it when he did such simple things, "I made us something." He smiled, holding up his balled hand and uncurling his slender fingers to show two matching wooden rings.

"I measured your finger when you were sleeping, so it should fit…And I know rings are a human tradition, but I was once human…and we have no use for spending our already small funds on gold, so…I made these from cherry wood…cherry trees are seen as the tree of the heart…" He looked up at the reaper who seemed to have a questioning smile on his face, so he continued, "They say that cherry wood teaches us the lessons of clearing the pain of the heart and relating to others in a compassionate manner…I felt it was fitting to use as wedding bands if we were to replace gold with wood."

Undertaker looked down at the skillfully credited objects, and he reached out to touch them with his fingertips. "They're perfect, lovely. They will add since touch."

Jase smiled, "I thought you'd like them…"

"Such talent," marveled the reaper sincerely. He always seemed drawn to the artistic types...not that he was complaining. "Best put them away for now, love. I wouldn't want to lose them before our special night comes."

Jase nodded and left to place them back into the simple box before returning to his lover, slipping into the kitchen briefly to grab the tea that was on the heat, kettle whistling. He was careful not to burn himself unknowingly as he made up the tea, and brought the tray out to the main room for the two of them.

"Ah, thank you, my dear."

Undertaker took one of the cups on the tray, and he filled it with the hot brew, before taking three sugar cubes from the accompanying china container and dropping them in. Satisfied with the blend he took a seat on the sofa by the coffee table and he gingerly sipped the beverage.

"Tomorrow, I'll begin on the garden," he said between sips. "Once it's growing nice, I can set up my apothecary trade with the local doctors. That should bring in some decent coin along with your woodcraft.

He sobered a bit, staring at the steam curling up from the cup. "And then maybe I can put the doll-making business behind me, and stop adding black marks to my record." He brightened a moment later, grinning at Jase. "You're turning me into an honest reaper, my love."

The doll grinned, "I'll take that as a compliment. Though, I'd prefer to think of it as I inspire you to listen to the good in your heart more often. It was always there. If it hadn't…then I wouldn't have been able to touch it." He poured a cup of tea for himself and held it out for his lover to chill it before he relaxed back on the couch, enjoying the tasteless-but still soothing liquid.

Undertaker laid his head on the doll's shoulder and relaxed. "I honestly didn't know there was any good in me to begin with. Funny how these things work out."

"All with a soul has the potential for both good and evil. The choices we make nurture one or the other and makes it grow stronger…at least, that's what I have come to believe." Jase said, setting down his cup and glancing at his lover, "That includes Death."

"Hmm, interesting philosophy," mused the reaper, lifting his head off Jase's shoulder to sip more tea. He rubbed his companions knee, trying to keep his touches relatively chaste until their 'wedding night'.

"I'm afraid my moral compass will always be a bit askew by your standards, though."

"You've already twisted mine." Jase pointed out, "How many humans learn these truths about the world as I have? The important part is that I know there is good in you, and that I have seen it."

"Then that's good enough for me," decided the reaper. He took Jase's free hand in his and he kissed it.

The Doll smiled, leaning in to place a soft, lingering kiss upon his lips. "I'm glad you are going to stop making other Dolls…That Doll I had seen seemed so lost without a soul…she was sad…"

Undertaker had never considered that before. "You empathize with them in ways that I cannot." He nuzzled the hand he was holding, pressing it against his cheek. "For that, I really will stop making them. I can't have my darling upset over my work. This is my promise to you."

"I have a connection to them…" he nodded. They had never really talked of what had happened that day apart from the reapers showing up as they did. "I could sense them and their feelings…and I know they could do the same with me. That first Doll…she looked up to me…she was curious how I had attained a soul…she wanted to learn from me. They are trapped within themselves, unable to control their hunger…I don't think they mean to hurt people, it just happens. It's depressing that nothing could help them…"

For the first time, Undertaker began to see the folly in what he'd done. He had always thought of his dolls as little more than animated corpses. That he could miss such a thing as a creature that spoke with the dead more than he did the living bothered him.

"I...had no idea," he confessed.

"…I figured…" Jase said in a low, gentle voice. "You always spoke of them as objects, and I believed them to be mindless monsters…until you awoke her and brought her out. You had told me I was far different than the others…but I feel that's not true. We were both wrong. They aren't mindless monsters, they are lost, trapped, and frightened…but so much happened that day we never got a chance to talk about it."

"Then I've truly done my children harm," undertaker whispered, frowning. Despite that he never thought if them as people, he held a certain fondness for his creations that he could not explain. They were his creations, after all, and though he believed they were insentient, he was still their 'father'.

Guilt was a horrid thing, and he couldn't undo it.

Jase took the reaper's tea from him and set it aside on the table before moving to straddle him, "I didn't mean to make you feel bad…You couldn't have known…You are death, but they were soulless…whatever powers you have as a reaper would be useless as you can't see what is not there. You told me once, that souls are collected as a sort of story-record of a person's life. Their memories and emotions. You could see that… but a Doll's…well, the other Dolls' emotions are trapped deep inside their soulless forms. There was no way for them to express it, no way for even you to see. They were dead—on the outside. Moving weapons as that viscount had thought they were…thought I was, at first…" he placed both palms on either of the reaper's cheeks, "You are not at fault…and…and if you hadn't done such experiments…I'd be dead right now, myself."

Undertaker's unhappy expression did not fade. "Those are kind words, love, but I...how do I explain this? Until you came along, the dead were my only company, really...the only ones that I could truly talk to. Lifeless shells, yes, but I could speak freely to them, and there was no judgment. They were at peace. To think that I destroyed that peace with my ambition...it troubles me. It troubles me greatly."

He swallowed trying to cope with emotions he simply wasn't used to dealing with. He couldn't even apologize to them for the injustice he'd done.

Undertaker's vision blurred and he hastily looked away, trying to wipe his eyes before the damnable, unfamiliar tears became too obvious.

Death weeping for the dead...he should have found that funny, but his sense of humor seemed to have abandoned him.

"I—I'm sorry…Chronus…" Jase could hear the tears in his lover's voice…and he'd caused them to be there. Finally, after months of being together, Jase had spoken too much. And Chronus did have the right to know…but he hated that the news had caused him such pain and inner turmoil. Jase hated seeing that pain on the normally giggling face.

The Doll's connection to the other dolls now seemed a curse to him. At first, he'd been glad for it—he could understand them even if it saddened him. He was still glad to know that they weren't the mindless monsters he'd originally thought. They seemed to lack personality, but emotion they had—and killing wasn't their intention at all.

He took a shaky breath, not knowing how he could comfort the Undertaker…how he could help make better what he'd done. "…I'm sorry…"

Undertaker heaved a sigh, regaining control of his emotions with difficulty. He embraced his companion with one arm so that he wouldn't unbalance him as he leaned forward to put his teacup down on the coffee table after picking it up for another sip. With that done, he leaned back again, settled his hands on Jase's hips and shook his hair out of his eyes to gaze up at him.

"Don't, Jase. I'm rather glad that you shared this with me. If you hadn't, I would have gone on blindly, unaware of the harm I was doing to them. Now-thanks to you-I know better. I'd rather see and feel regret than be blind and hurt my children."

The tears that he'd been holding back finally came free in two glistening drops, trailing down his cheeks. He hugged Jase and he hid his face against the doll's chest, embarrassed by the display.

"Sorry, my dear," he sniffed. "The pipes seem to have burst."

Jase shook his head, hugging him, "But…tears aren't you…" he said gently, stroking the reaper's hair.

"No," agreed the reaper in a muffled voice. "Tears aren't me at all. I think the last time I shed one was when my bat died."

He sniffed once more and took a slow breath, pulling back from the embrace with a flush of embarrassment. "Gods, I'm becoming a eunuch."

Jase sighed, kissing the taller man's head, "I should have thought to tell you before, though…"

"Our relationship has evolved since then," reminded Undertaker, "and circumstances being what they were, you didn't exactly have the opportunity to sit down and have a good talk with old Chronus."

He gave the doll a grin, some of the tragedy fading from his eyes. "I'm truly sorry for coming apart on you, my dear. It was a bit of a shock."

"As long as you promise to smile again…let the tears run, _mon bien-aimé_." The doll whispered.

The reaper gave him one of those smiles then, touched by his devotion. "It's a promise."

"Good…" Jase smiled, kissing away the tears on his cheeks.

* * *

To be continued...


	21. Chapter 21

The next two days were filled with nervous anxiety for them both. Undertaker occupied himself with tending his herb garden, avoiding too many romantic interactions with him for fear that he might lose his senses and carry him off into the bedroom to do things he'd promised to save for their wedding night.

He didn't mind the waiting, because he knew it would make their special night even sweeter...but it was hard.

Jase was equally as nervous. He found he couldn't concentrate on his carving very long, as doing anything that required he stay still seemed to leave him to think a little too much, resulting in a whole lot of 'what-ifs' that would make him get cold feet.

What if he forgot the words? What if he did something wrong that affected the ceremony? What if the ring he'd carved for Undertaker wasn't the right size? (Though he had tested it while the man slept.) Or what if the rings got lost? What if Undertaker changed his mind? What if the moon decided to not really be full—okay, that one was ludicrous.

The point was, he was worrying too much, and he knew it. He needed to keep himself busy in mind, as well as be productive physically. Hard labor helped, though he had to take breaks often to cool down. And at night, he surprisingly felt at ease when he picked up his old bible and read it to himself as he sipped at his cold tea, finally drifting off to sleep.

"Tonight is the night," said Undertaker to his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He'd pulled his bangs back for the occasion and gathered his hair into a ponytail, tying it off with a black ribbon. Looking at his mirrored image, he thought he looked an awful lot like the reaper he once was. If he could erase the scars and put his old glasses on, he would look now the way he had in his youth.

He wasn't that reaper any longer though; nor was he the mortician that worked as a Phantomhive informant for so many years. Now, he was Chronus.

He began to smile.

Jase was up in the bedroom, readying himself as well, his hair in a ponytail as usual, however, he'd chosen a white ribbon to hold it back. His face washed of the dirt from the work he'd done all day, and his unused formal suit fitting his curves perfectly. His shirt was white, vest, a dark blue with intricate patterns embroidered into it, and a silver lining the lapel. A light powder blue ascot was secured about his neck, black dress pants, shiny black shoes, and a powder blue tailcoat. Looking in the mirror, he felt like a man of nobility, dressed up so nice. But, it was his wedding day, after all.

He smiled at his reflection, tucking the wedding rings safely into his pocket before turning to head down the stairs to meet his groom.

Undertaker looked up as his lover walked down the stairs, and he smiled, dazzled by his appearance. "Oh, the things I'm going to do to you tonight," he promised under his breath. He reached out to take his hands as he stepped off the staircase, and he bent over to kiss him on the lips.

"You are a vision to behold," he complimented.

Jase smiled, his eyes taking in his lover as well, "So are you. And I am glad this is at night when I don't need that blindfold disrupting my view of you."

"I am too," agreed the reaper. "I can look into those lovely eyes of yours as we recite our vows. Are you ready, darlin'?"

The doll gave a nervous nod, "If I can remember to say them right…" he gave Chronus' hand a fond squeeze.

"You'll do fine, my love." Undertaker walked to the door with him, and they stepped outside into moonlight. They went under the big apple tree near the garden that Undertaker had recently cleared and planted, and the reaper took both of Jase's hands in his and gazed into his eyes.

" _I swear by Heaven, Earth and all realms in between that you are my soul's mate, from this night forth,"_ Undertakerbegan in the ancient tongue. _"May the full moon bear witness to this pledge. I devote myself to you, Jase Dubois, and I shall protect you, as I know you will protect me. I shall never betray you, as I know you will never betray me. My body, heart and spirit are one with yours. So say I, Chronus Undertaker_."

Jase felt a fluttering feeling to his entire being as he listened to the reaper's soft words, biting his lip. Once Chronus was finished, he spoke his vow, taking the strange words slow as to not mess them up, " _I swear by Heaven, Earth and all realms in between that you are my soul's mate, from this night forth, May the full moon bear witness to this pledge. I devote myself to you, Chronus Undertaker, and I shall protect you, as I know you will protect me. I shall never betray you, as I know you will never betray me. My body, heart and spirit are one with yours. So say I, Jase Dubois_."

Once finished, he bit his lip again, hoping that he'd done it right—waiting for Undertaker's reaction.

Undertaker smiled broadly at him. "We'll done, love. Now we make our gesture to seal the pledge-in our case, the exchange of the rings. I should warn you now, I hear the rush is quite intoxicating, when it's finalized. You're going to feel a bit of me in you, and vice-versa."

Jase nodded, not truly understanding how he could feel such a thing. He pulled out the two rings he'd crafted for them and held them out, picking up the one he'd made for Chronus and slipping the other into his lover's accepting hand. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he reconnected their gaze.

"Here goes," murmured the reaper. He slipped Jase's ring on his finger and he held out his hand so the doll could reciprocate. At first, nothing happened and he heaved a sigh of disappointment, thinking that perhaps it wouldn't work because his lover was imbued with holy fire.

Then it hit him in a rush, without warning. Undertaker gasped and reached out for Jase, pulling him close as he was swamped with euphoria. He vaguely heard the doll moan, and he guessed that he was feeling it as well. He could feel Jase's emotions in the back of his mind, beneath his own. Ecstasy, fear, confusion, love and excitement were all in a jumble together, and he emphasized completely.

"Jase," he groaned, bowing his head over the doll's clean, soft hair. He smelled amazing to him all the sudden, and Undertaker couldn't resist cupping his chin to tilt his head back for a passionate kiss.

The Frenchman clung to the reaper, unsure if the sudden rush would actually cause him to pass out. It was unlike anything he could have ever imagined, filling him with uncertainty and the need to hold onto Chronus—only Chronus. The man who he knew was feeling the same thing. It was as if Chronus was in his mind, sharing his own emotions.

Jase's knees gave out, but between his hold on Undertaker, and Undertaker's hold on him, he was kept up. The world was spinning around them, but all that mattered was the two of them. Chronus' arms around him, his suddenly intoxicating scent, the sound of his voice saying his name… He opened his eyes, unknowing as to when they had closed, gazing up into the reaper's golden-green eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and he pulled himself up, his toes barely touching the ground as their lips met, his lover's name upon his breath.

"We did it," gasped Undertaker with exuberance, "we're mated for life."

He kissed him again, unable to get enough of the taste of him. "Jase," he murmured desperately between kisses, showering them over his lips, his face, his dear little nose. "My darling Jase."

He lifted him against him, his passion combining with the rush to overwhelm him. This was even more intense than he'd expected.

"I-it's so…strange…" The Doll gasped between the kisses falling between their lips, "I know…I know I loved you before but now…it feels like I hadn't known that love…it's not the same as now…"

"Yes, darling," agreed the reaper with feeling. "Styx, I want you so badly!"

He was feeling such frantic need that he wasn't even consciously aware that he was carrying his new husband back to the house. The intensity of the bond would wear off in a couple of hours, but until then, Undertaker was completely at it's mercy.

As was Jase. Not a single thought of how they were both men, or that he'd been raised thinking it was wrong entered his mind. No. All he could think of was his husband—and how he wanted to feel every bit of his skin against his own. How he needed his touch, no matter how it came. He hardly even noticed as they mounted the steps in their small home, moving up to their loft-bedroom, and how he was lowered onto the bed. All he knew was that his lips were enjoying the taste of Undertaker's slender neck and under his jaw as he trailed countless kisses along it.

Undertaker untied the ribbon binding Jase's hair to free it, and then he did the same with his own. His lips hardly left his husband's skin as he began to remove their clothing, hands trembling with need and emotion. He nearly strangled himself with his own tie in his haste, and he tried to calm down.

It wouldn't do to accidentally rip Jase's fine garment with too much vigor, even though he hardly gave a damn about his own.

"I love you," he said breathlessly as he got the doll's vest and shirt open. He started kissing his way down his chest. "Love, love, love." He accentuated the word each time with another kiss.

Jase's own, still inexperienced fingers helped to tug off items of clothing hiding Undertaker's body, and he was glad the man was wearing far less layers than he normally did on a daily bases, having not worn his thick robes, and wearing a fitting suit instead. " _Je t'aime aussi, ma chérie, ma chérie Chronus...mon mari...mon âme soeur et la vie_..." he hummed against the man's skin, " _Oh, Comme je désire que tu ne fasse qu'un avec moi..._ "

Undertaker adored hearing Jase speak his mother tongue; especially when he spoke such endearments. It flowed so easily, and it sounded so seductive, coming from his lips. It was driving him crazy with lust, and he realized with some annoyance that their pants weren't going to go very far while they both had shoes on to impede the removal of them.

Undertaker stopped kissing him to sit up and grab one of his feet. Breathing heavily with need, he nonetheless chuckled at the frustrated sound Jase made.

"Won't be but a moment, lovely. I want you completely nude, and we've got to get these confounded shoes off for that to happen."

The doll let off another frustrated gasp of protest, "If I had known this would happen I would have dressed differently for the occasion!"

"Mm-hm," hummed the reaper in agreement as he took off Jase's shoes an stockings. He kissed his right foot before hurriedly doing the same with his own footwear and dropping them carelessly to the floor. He shook his hair out of his eyes and pulled it to the left, before covering Jase's body with his own again and kissing him.

"You look fantastic in this ensemble," he purred against his lips, "but I truthfully prefer you naked."

With that statement issued, he resumed liberating them both of the rest of said clothing. His tongue delved between the doll's lips to stroke inside of his mouth, and he couldn't resist cupping the bulge in his underwear when he got his pants open to give it a little squeeze. Feeling it throb under his palm, he groaned. He released it and he ground his own arousal against it, creating sweet friction the made his breath catch.

Jase blushed at his lover's statement, but let out a long, throaty moan a second later as they ground against each other, his hips rolling up into the motion eagerly, "I—ahh—normally prefer you dressed nicely as you were…but…nude…nude is good right now…" he admitted lustfully. His fingers slid into the waistband of his husband's pants, tugging them downwards off his hips, and his palms trailing flat against the man's cheeks as he guided them down.

Undertaker wriggled out of the garment and kicked it aside before stretching out on top of Jase again. He rubbed his naked erection against the doll's as he kissed him, flesh on flesh. He groaned at the sensation and he broke into a sweat, overheated with desire and the close proximity of his mate.

He summoned the chill without conscious thought; both for his comfort and for Jase's.

Jase reached up and hooked his hand behind Chronus' head, under his hair, pulling him back into his heated lips, almost able to feel the icy feel of his lover's skin. It felt wonderful, and it only furthered his need for his husband's touch.

"I want to taste you again, love," gasped Chronus. He slipped a hand between the press of their bodies and he caressed Jase's chest and torso. He paused to fondle each nipple until they were both pebbled from the attention, muffling his love's exclamations of pleasure with a deep, demanding kiss.

He dragged his lips down from the doll's gasping mouth, licking and sucking the pale, soft skin as he went. His hand slid lower and he gripped the rigid length of Jase's shaft, stroking it from root to tip with loving attention.

"Chronus…" The Frenchman suddenly moved, twisting his body around, finding himself on the edge of the bed, his lover's length right in front of him. Blushing, he took it in his hand, stroking it firmly a few times.

It was the first time Jase had ever touched him there, and the reaper went still for a moment, completely stupefied by the sensation. It wasn't as though Undertaker had never been touched this way before, but this was far more intense than his previous encounters.

He shuddered with pleasure, a moan escaping his lips as the other man's gripping hand slid up and down his throbbing member. "Jase...oh, darling..."

"I…I want you to feel it too…this isn't like last time…this is our night, and I learned a little last time…I want to touch you, too." The Doll breathed lustfully.

"I have no complaints, my dear," answered the reaper huskily, his hips rocking into the doll's strokes with enthusiasm. He reached down to return the favor, gripping Jase once again with a firm, possessive hand. "Touch me however you like...just please...don't stop what you're doing right now."

He kissed him with breathless passion, hardly able to believe how fantastic every little kiss, caress and embrace felt. His body was charged with restless need, and he knew that even if he climaxed before he could claim his delectable dollie again, the refractory period would be very short.

He could feel Jase's pleasure as well as his own as they stroked and kissed one another, and he knew that this must be what bliss was like.

Jase gasped, speeding his strokes, inspired by the moans he was coaxing from his love's lips. Moaning himself into the kiss, he rolled over atop Undertaker, their legs tangled as his tongue met his lover's.

Undertaker didn't object; in fact, he was thrilled by the display of eager passion. He undulated beneath the smaller man and he slicked his thumb over the flushed, moist tip of his erection.

"Would you like to ride me tonight, pet?" He stared up at his passionate lover, adoring the way his rich brown hair tumbled around his shoulders and down his back in its unbound state.

The doll's flushed cheeks deepened to a red. He was still mostly inexperienced, but he assumed that 'ride me' had something to do with their current position, which was reminiscent of what they had done at Joy's inn. A combination of that night and the night before when the reaper had clamed his innocence so passionately in the heart of the storm that had swallowed his cries and screams of pleasure. And Undertaker had mentioned that there were many ways to share their bodies with each other, and suddenly, he wanted to try them all. So, he nodded, "I'd like to try it, my Chronus."

The reaper bit back another groan, his arousal twitching in Jase's hand with excitement. They had prepared for this night, both of them eager to experience it. He reluctantly stopped fondling him, and he gently eased Jase's hand away from his member for fear that he'd spill himself soon—short refractory or not. He nodded at the little bedside table to the left, settling his hands on the smooth, lean hips.

"Fetch the oil we've been keeping in there, my love."

Jase nodded and reached over, having to crawl across the bed a few inches to reach the drawer, sliding it open and feeling around for the small bottle of oil. His position giving the old reaper the perfect view of his backside. Once located, he snatched it up and pulled back over to Chronus, pressing it into his lover's awaiting palm.

Chronus was temporarily dumbfounded, stunned stupid by the sight of Jase's tight, round little bottom staring him in the face. He stared at the perfection of it, taking in the way the moonlight beamed on it through the un-shuttered window, and the shadow of his balls nestled underneath. When the smaller man handed over the item he'd requested, he held it up and looked at it blankly; before recognizing it.

"Oh," he said stupidly, "right."

Jase gave him a questioning look, wondering why Undertaker sounded so confused—until he realized the position he'd unknowingly had taken on as he retrieved the oil. He became flustered, but something in the back of his mind made him want to tease the man rather than shy away as he normally would. "Enjoy the view?" he smirked.

"Far too much for my own good," agreed Chronus breathlessly. "Darling, I wonder if you wouldn't mind a repeat performance. You were in the perfect position for me to ready you for the saddle...er, so to speak."

His breath caught in his throat as he moved back onto his hands and knees, glancing back over his shoulder at the reaper, "Like this?" Jase breathed.

Undertaker checked himself for drool. "Oh yes, just like that." He uncorked the bottle and dribbled some if the oil over the first two fingers of his right hand. He got onto his knees behind Jase, and he dribbled more of the slippery substance over the cleft between his presented cheeks.

"Styx, you're lovely," murmured Chronus as he began to massage the oil over the tight ring of his entrance. He was so ready for him that he thought he might burst soon.

The Doll bit his lip and gave a small smile, humming out a soft groan. He gripped the sheets, "I'm r-ready…"

Undertaker could tell as much, when he gripped the doll's erection and stroked it slowly. "Patience, darlin'. I don't want to rush this and hurt you."

He gently pressed a finger into the puckered entrance after retracting his nails, finding it difficult to follow his own advisory. Heavens, his husband was sexy! The reaper pressed light kisses over Jase's arching back as he penetrated him, murmuring endearments to him all the while.

The Frenchman's breath grew heavier, small sounds of pleasure escaping upon nearly every breath he let out as his husband carefully stretched him out, long fingers moving in and out, twisting and scissoring him to looseness.

"I think you're ready for me now."

Undertaker gave him one last kiss on the shoulder, before scooting back against the headboard and propping himself into a sitting position. He held his arms out and he favored the smaller man with a seductive, loving smile.

"Come join me, my love."

The Doll moved over to his lover, quickly straddling him as he had before and leaning down to kiss him. Once he pulled back, it really wasn't difficult for him to realize how he was to 'ride' his husband. Lifting himself up, he positioned himself over Undertaker's length, and taking a deep breath, he began to lower himself onto it slowly. "Nyhgh…"

Undertaker put his hands on the doll's hips to steady him, his gaze heavy-lidded with passion as Jase slowly took him in. "Easy, love," he cautioned breathlessly, sensing his discomfort through the bond they shared. "Take your time. We have...all night...oh mercy, you feel good!"

Despite his advice, Jase kept going until the reaper's long shaft was fully seated inside of him. He stopped then, and Chronus embraced him, burying his face in the soft brown hair spilling over the doll's shoulders.

"Jase," he moaned, finding it difficult to resist the urge to begin thrusting immediately. "My Jase."

Being joined with him like this again was heavenly; and it was much more intense than the last time.

Jase took a deep breath, hugging the reaper as he grew used to the stretch once again. His breath feathering across Undertaker's skin. It felt—beyond what he could describe, to have Chronus within him again. Heavenly? Yes, blissful? Yes…but it was so much more than that! He didn't even mind the discomfort and quickly fading pain of being stretched so much. "Chronus…nnh!" he hugged him tighter, "You—You're…" he trailed off, lips finding lips as his hips slowly lifted slightly.

Undertaker groaned at the sensation as the gripping heat withdrew slightly, and he put his hands on Jase's hips again to guide him until he got the hang of it. He'd gotten some practice from dry humping when their love play got intense in the past, but this would be his first time to ride him with actual penetration happening.

Believing that he'd adjusted enough to the penetration to begin moving, Undertaker lifted the smaller man, kissing him sensually as he rolled his hips beneath him to withdraw. When his length was out to the tip, he lifted his hips and eased Jase down again. He smiled at the sharp gasp of pleasure the move provoked from his lover, and he hid it again slowly.

"Have your way with me, lovely," he encouraged as he started a slow, steady rhythm. "I'm all yours."

"Ahh!" Jase's head fell back, his eyes closed as he was guided up and down along his lover's member. Gasps and moans escaped freely from his lips each time, and slowly, as he grew used to the movements his lover was guiding him on, he began to increase the speed little by little. His hair tickling his lower back as he started up a rhythm, and his fingers laced with Undertaker's, holding his hand tight.

"Unh! Ah, that's good," panted the reaper, pleased beyond measure that he'd been right about Jase's instincts. He gasped the Frenchman's name again and he put more force behind his thrusts, angling them in an attempt to stroke the right spot inside of him in passing.

The Frenchman's words seemed lost, only managing sounds of partial words, most likely in French, as he gasped and moaned louder. His sounds mounting to cries as he moved on and off of his husband's length… Until a hard spot deep inside him was struck and he screamed out, nearly losing his balance on Undertaker, falling forward as a pleasurable wave rippled through his entire body.

There. He'd found it. Determined to give his lover ultimate pleasure, Chronus drove into him at the same angle...and again. He varied the speed and force of his thrusts, but he made sure to hit that sweet spot again and again.

He licked the evaporating perspiration off Jase's neck, groaning heavily in his lust and pleasure. He instinctively dropped the temperature of the air around them further to keep him from overheating, and he nibbled his ear. He let go of one of the doll's hands to reach between their shifting bodies and grip his flushed, straining shaft.

"I want to send you to Heaven, tonight," he declared in a growling, husky tone, and he began to stroke his hand up and down Jase's cock. He changed his rhythm to short, rapid pumps, bumping against the internal gland with attentive vigor.

"Ah-a-'rea-d-dy-th-THERE!" The former priest screamed out, his accent thick, and his vision going white as his climax finally took him, forcing a scream of Chronus' name out of his lips.

Undertaker moaned with carnal delight as the smaller man's passage clamped down tightly on his sex, nearly making him come, too. He kept stroking Jase's bucking shaft until the last of his seed was spent and his climax faded away.

Satisfied that he'd pleased his husband to the best of his ability, he lifted Jase and shifted into another position beneath him, rolling him onto his back. He pushed the doll's bent knees back and further apart, and he drove into him firmly again. He began to take him hard and fast, his own cries of pleasure mingling with the renewed ones from Jase.

He never would have been this rough with him if he didn't have their fresh bond assuring him that he wasn't hurting him. He thrust away at abandon, his body tensing up with each powerful motion, until the pleasure exploded and dazzled him. He tilted his head back and yelled nearly as loud as his companion as he gave him his seed.

Jase panted and hugged his lover, speechless with Chronus—his Chronus, his husband…the man he'd spend the rest of his existence with.

The reaper lowered his head to claim a loving, sated kiss and he sighed with the felicity of the afterglow. "Sorry I got a bit rough with you at the end, my dear. I was just so randy for you."

He nuzzled the doll's flushed cheek, and he noticed that he was still hard as could be inside of him. For that matter, Jase hadn't deflated with his climax either. He grinned with amusement. He'd suspected a short refractory period, but this?

Chronus withdrew a little, and then he gently eased back in to the hilt. He began to favor his husband with soft kisses, his breath catching a little. "I still want you," he whispered. He didn't sense more than a mild ache from the doll, typical of being penetrated down there. "I won't keep going if you don't wish it, though."

Jase shook his head as a small moan slipped out, "You still have me…" He knew they were still running off the magics that had just bound them together as spouses. And he knew that while the love wouldn't ever fade…that the lusty side-effect would. And he didn't want to waste it.

How unlike him. Well, unlike when he was human. Since then he'd been embracing so much more—and now, all he cared about was embracing his husband in every way he could. There was a chance that once it wore off, that he'd be less interested in sex again. Not completely disinterested, though. He hadn't been so after he lost his virginity. But when it came for multiple rounds when they did have it…

The Doll hummed, trailing soft kisses along Undertaker's cheek, "…And I want you."

Undertaker smiled. That was all he needed to hear. "Well then," he purred as he began to move again, his thoughts echoing Jase's, "let's make the most of it, shall we?"

They made love again...and yet again, after that. When their stamina was too drained for them to keep going, they lay caressing and kissing until the sun came up, and then they fell asleep in each other's arms, finally exhausted.

* * *

To be continued...


	22. Chapter 22

Late that afternoon, Jase finally stirred, rolling over and opening his eyes—quickly regretting the action as the afternoon sun lit the room bright, causing him to hide his face into Undertaker's side. He moaned and pulled himself closer to the reaper, his rear, once again, in pain.

Undertaker woke from his sleep roused from blissful dreams by his love's expressed discomfort. He yawned, and his happy grin faded a little as he vaguely felt the phantom tingle in his neither regions. Knowing the cause, he felt a little guilty and he stroked Jase's mussed hair.

"Feeling sore, love?"

The Doll nodded, "…Light's too bright, too…" he mumbled, but a smile curled his lips.

Married…they were married…

Undertaker nuzzled his hair before scooting away to roll out of the bed. "I'll take care of that, darlin'. You just relax while I shut the curtains and go draw us a nice bath. I'll put some herbal soak into it for your bum."

Covered only by his long, pale hair, the reaper walked over to the window to pull the curtains shut. "Sorry about the soreness, dear. It _will_ stop aching so much after lovemaking soon, once your body adjusts to it."

He grinned and shook his bangs out of his eyes to toss a playful wink over his bare shoulder at him. "And last night, I barely gave you a breather. Not to say I can't normally provide an encore after some rest, but our wedding night was...exceptional."

"I…I knew I'd feel it this morning—erm, afternoon…" Jase blushed, groaning as he pushed himself up, "Even before we said our vows…I knew we'd be making love again, and it's only my second time…I…I just hadn't expected it to be that good…that long…for so many rounds…"

Undertaker's grin returned as he recalled every glorious moment with vivid clarity. "Yes, it was quite the magical night."

He approached the bed and he bent over it to kiss his spouse on the lips. "I'll see to those aches I've caused you, and I promise not to jump you again until you've recovered."

He glanced at the bedding, which had evidence of their passion dried all over it. "I'll strip the bed and change the linens when we've finished our bath, too. I just want you to relax and rest, love."

"I rested nearly all day." He protested, "I'll relax if you relax. No work for either of us for now." He said, playing with a lock of silvery hair, and loving how the soft strands looked hanging loose around the reaper's nearly colorless skin.

Chronus smiled down at him, feeling like the luckiest man alive. "I don't classify taking care of you as 'work', my love."

He took hold of the doll's free hand and he placed a kiss on it. "We don't want to sleep in soiled bedding, do we? I promise that I'll relax, afterwards. We can sit in the rocking chair downstairs together and read a book, if you like."

"I meant actual work…like fixing up our home and tending to our trades." Jase chuckled, "I want this honeymoon phase to last more than a few hours before life comes back to remind us we need to make money in case the reapers find your location and we have to go back on the road…"

"Ah, of course." The reaper stroked one leisurely hand down his companion's partially bared thigh. "You raise a good point, my love. I vow that we'll have a fine Honeymoon, indeed."

He kissed him once more, before leaving him to go and draw the bath for them.

"Are you joining me in the bath, or shall I go back to being modest?" Jase called after him, finally realizing he was still completely nude, not even a sheet covering his privates.

Chronus paused at the doorway, looking back at him with eyes that promised further ravishing, if he weren't careful.

"Always together, love." His dual-colored eyes swept over the doll, practically devouring him in their intensity. "I'm quite willing to convince you that modesty has no place with us, any longer."

The Doll flushed a dark red that promised heat, "If you think I'll be walking around in the nude from now on—you best think again, Mister Chronus!"

The ancient heaved a bereaved sigh. "No? But it would brighten the house up so much, to have your darling little tush on display all the time."

"Not happening! I choose to keep clothing myself." He said, crossing his arms, "My being a married man will not change that."

"Then I'll simply have to find more reasons to undress you," countered the reaper with a wink. I'm up for the challenge, my dear."

He left it at that and he chuckled as he exited the room to go and draw the bath for them.

Jase sighed and flopped back on the pillows, ' _I may have accidentally turned him into an even bigger pervert by marrying him…_ ' he thought to himself, an amused smile on his lips, ' _But he's **my** perverted husband._ '

Undertaker whistled as he poured a combination of herbal extracts into the bathtub. He tested the temperature of the water he'd filled it with from the well. Deciding it should be a bit cooler, he dipped his hand in and he used his abilities to chill it to a more suitable temperature for Jase.

Nodding in satisfaction, he slipped out of the robe he'd donned to haul the water in, and he got into the tub. He'd tied his hair up to keep it out of the water, since he'd just washed it the day before. He grimaced a little at the shock of cold as he sank down, but he was used to low temperatures and he adjusted quickly.

"Jase, love," he called, "our bath is ready."

A faint groan sounded a moment later, soon followed by soft footsteps on the stairs. Jase appeared a moment later, the sheet from their bed tied like a skirt about his slender waist. His movements were stiff, and it was obvious why. He slipped into the bathroom and closed the door before loosening the sheet and letting it flutter to the floor around his feet. With some difficulty, he lifted his leg to step into the chilled waters of the scented bath.

Undertaker's good mood faltered a little at the sight of his spouse's suffering, and he scooted back and reached out to help him, situating the doll between his parted thighs, with his back to him.

"Lean back against me, darlin'," offered the reaper. "I'll bathe you while you relax, and we'll put a compress down there afterwards."

"I'm fine, it's just uncomfortable…" Jase said as he leaned back against Chronus's chest, turning his head so that his cheek pressed against his shoulder, "Besides…it's just as much my fault as yours. I could have told you no more, but I didn't. I was just as greedy with you as you were with me…making love until the sun came up…"

His words threatened to make the reaper swell again, and Undertaker reached for the cake of soap and the sponge to begin bathing him. He lathered the sponge up and set the soap back into the tray.

"Fair enough, but I still intend to pamper you silly. No arguments."

He began to lather the doll's chest and shoulders, kissing his neck as he went. He couldn't stop his groin from swelling with arousal, but he avoided making sexual advances.

"Sorry, my dear," he chuckled when he hardened completely beneath the water and inadvertently poked Jase in the buttocks. "I'm not doing it on purpose. It has a mind of its own."

"Well, it's not going back in there anytime soon!" The Frenchman flushed, pulling away an inch. "It's just going to have to learn patience! Honestly, last night didn't tire it out for a week?" he commented in a joking tone.

The reaper chuckled with amusement. "What can I say? Little Chronus is a playful fellow, but I'll keep him in check."

He kissed him on the cheek and urged him to lean forward, so that he could get his back. "No more penetrative lovemaking until you're healed up, love."

"Good." he turned around, hugging the reaper and planting a kiss upon his cheek.

Undertaker finished bathing the Frenchman, and after that, he simply held him and soaked with him for a while. When they were finished, they dried each other off and the reaper lifted his nude husband into his arms, bride style. He was nude as well and he began to carry him back to the bedroom.

Jase gave a gentle sigh, resting his head against his lover's cheek, content. Being carried was much more comfortable than having to walk, and he didn't say anything when he felt Undertaker's hand slide over his bared rear.

"I love you…"

"And I you," said Undertaker sincerely. He brought him not to the bed, but to the wingback armchair in the corner of the master bedroom. He eased him down carefully so that he wasn't sitting directly on his bottom, to spare his sore posterior, and he covered him with a robe.

"I'll be right back with the poultice," he promised softly, "and then I'll change the bedding and we can sit by the hearth in the other room and read together for a while. Does that sound appealing to you, dearest?"

Jase nodded, slipping his arms into the sleeves of the oversized robe (Which belonged to his husband), and tying it closed so that he'd be covered. "Hurry back."

Undertaker dressed and worked quickly, his Shinigami physiology working in his favor to quicken his tasks. After making and applying the medicinal poultice to Jase's backside, he set to work on the linens. He dropped the bedding into the wash bucket to soak, and he replaced it with fresh linens.

Declaring the job done, he carried his bundled lover down the stairs and into the reading room.

"What shall we read, Jase?" He asked as he stood before the bookshelf with the doll still in his arms, setting him down and running his long fingers over the bindings of the books displayed.

The Doll lay out across the sofa, resting his arms and chin on the armrest, "We don't have much of a choice…most of our books are medical texts…"

"Well, what about the Shakespeare, then?" Undertaker nodded at a particularly thick volume on the shelf.

"I hear he has written quite a few things…" Jase observed, "We could try it…whats the harm?" he smiled and pushed himself up, making room for his husband. The Doll smiled to himself. 'husband'…every time he thought of that word he felt all fluttery and giddy inside…

Undertaker collected the book from the shelf and he joined him. He put one arm around the smaller man as he opened the book to the table of contents. They agreed upon "Macbeth" and enjoyed a quiet read together before dinner.

* * *

To be continued...


	23. Chapter 23

They enjoyed their honeymoon for a week, hardly leaving each other's side. Jase's soreness eased and as Chronus promised, the next time they made love he only suffered mild discomfort the next day.

Life returned to normal after that...save for the spirit bond they now shared. Chronus tended his gardens and began to do business with the apothecary in the village a few miles away. Jase sold his carvings, and while they lived a modest life, it was a comfortable one.

One day, a little over two weeks after their vows, the ancient's raven returned to him with a message from Druitt. They had discovered the traitor and were awaiting his instructions in London.

The reaper sighed, almost wishing they hadn't found him. He really wanted nothing to do with the grim business of making dolls any longer, but it seemed he would have to be Undertaker again once more; if only to finish this and end his association with the Phoenix society.

"Mail?" Jase walked in from outside, carrying a basket of fresh-cut herbs he planned on drying to add to their emergency stash in their wagon, so that Undertaker would have seasonings for his food while on the road. "…It's that Viscount isn't it..? Is he wanting you to work for him again..?"

He'd forgotten for a moment that Jase could sense his emotions, now. The reaper looked at his spouse, taking in the sight of him with adoration.

"He's found the traitor," answered Undertaker, "the man responsible for turning me in to Dispatch in Germany. They are in London, awaiting my instructions."

He wasn't smiling; not even a little bit.

"You aren't planning to go back, are you?" Jase set down the basket and walked over to where the reaper sat, "The reapers who are after you are based in London…it's most dangerous for you there…ah?"

The raven cawed and glided from the open windowsill, landing atop the Doll's head, settling down comfortably.

As serious as the situation was, Undertaker blurted a laugh at the sight. He reached out for the bird. "Mr. Crowley, that's not any way to introduce yourself. Come on, then."

The raven hopped off of Jase's head and onto Undertaker's offered forearm. The reaper stroked the shiny feathers, and he sobered as he regarded Jase. "I don't want to go back to London. I don't want to leave you here, and I don't want to bring you anywhere near that city, where my former associates could find you."

He'd never felt so torn before, so unsure of himself. He placed the raven on the windowsill and he took Jase's hands in his. "I need to finish this, though. I suppose I could send a message back to Druitt giving him the nod to kill the little weasel and be done with it."

Jase breathed in a deep breath through his nose, "But that wouldn't satisfy you…would it? –Not that I condone killing when there are other options, but…" he paused and bit his lip, "But you worked with humans in your…Doll business…so what kind of a man could get in contact with reaper officials?"

"Someone who figured out my secret," answered the reaper. "Someone who happened upon my former colleagues and perhaps overheard them speaking of me. Maybe he doesn't know exactly what I am, but I imagine it wasn't hard for him to work out that I was the one they were looking for. He probably saw their fancy suits and reckoned there could be a reward in it for him."

Undertaker glanced at the raven. "I trust Druitt not to try and lead me into a trap. The man's too obsessed with what we've been doing to risk losing the chance to see the process perfected. I do want to deal with our traitor myself, but I don't want to risk your safety, love. London is a far cry from here, too."

He brought the smaller man's hands to his lips and he kissed them, one at a time.

"I don't want you putting yourself in harms way, either." Jase said, shaking his head, "But you are still thinking of going…aren't you? I can feel it…"

"Yes," admitted Chronus. "Not so much for vengeance as for the sake of putting an end to this business, once and for all. I must admit that I'd like to poke around a bit and see if I can sniff out any other potential tattlers. I'm also curious to question the chap that turned me in."

Jase was silent a moment, his hidden eyes searching Chronus', "…Then go…but only if you promise to stay out of sight and return to me. I'll be fine here…no one ever comes by, and as long as I stay here no one is in danger from me."

Undertaker could hardly believe it. He'd expected Jase to beg him to stay, to forget about the traitors and stay hidden. He could see it in his expression though, and he could sense his resolve. He knew that there really was no 'safe' place, now. Dispatch would never stop until they had Undertaker in their custody, and Jase had finally accepted that.

Undertaker put his arms around Jase, pulling him into his embrace. "I swear to you that I will come back to you and when I do, perhaps we can live in peace here for a while longer."

He kissed him then, loving him even more for his patience and understanding. "I love you, my dear."

"I love you, too. So you better stay safe!" he leaned in and kissed his husband gingerly on the lips, "I'll be right here waiting for you."

"Then I'd best get packed and take inventory," murmured Undertaker. "I'll take a train to Belgium and take the ferry to London, from there. I'll have to go into town and make arrangements to be picked up from here and taken to the station."

"I'm sorry I can't see you off…" the Doll nodded, "So hurry back so that I can make it up to you."

Undertaker grinned. "With an offer like that, how can I fail to comply?"

* * *

 

 

The retired death god packed lightly, taking only a suitcase to carry his clothes, for he didn't have any intention of making this trip a long one. He embraced his spouse tightly when the carriage arrived for him, whispering promises not to be gone for long. With one last, lingering kiss, Undertaker left the house and got into the carriage , trying not to worry about how Jase would manage on his own for a week.

Jase could be seen at the window, looking out, his small hand pressed against the glass longingly as he watched the carriage pull away. He was in for a long, lonely week. He'd grown so used to the reaper always being there, and since their marriage the bond between them had only grown, making the parting all the more painful. But, he knew this needed to be done. He could feel that his Chronus needed the closure. And while he wished to go with him, he knew that his presence would only hinder Undertaker's work. He had worked with men who'd set off Jase's more Doll-like qualities, and while eating meat did help, he was still very dependant on the reaper to hold him back. The reaper would be in constant worry about his Doll husband…and not so much himself. And while Jase longed to be able to protect Chronus, he knew he couldn't. It was safer for the Reaper to do what he needed to—alone.

"Be safe…" he whispered as the carriage disappeared from sight.

* * *

 

Undertaker arrived in London three days later, and he wasted no time taking a carriage to the Viscout Druitt's estate in the countryside. Evening was falling by the time he arrived at his destination, and his thoughts were on Jase the entire time. The butler greeted him, had the footman take his suitcase and escorted him inside.

"The Viscount is having dinner," explained the butler. "He has instructed me to invite you to join him, sir."

Undertaker thought about it for a moment, and he nodded. "I could use a meal."

"Very good, Sir. Shall I have the servants draw you a bath?"

"Not just yet," answered the reaper. Your lord and I have matters to discuss, first. Is there a phone I could use? I would like to make a call before I join the Viscount for dinner."

"Of course, Master Undertaker. Right this way."

Undertaker followed him through the elaborate halls to the first floor study, and he thanked him when he pointed out the fancy dial phone and left him alone. The reaper shut the door and placed a long-distance call to his home in France, hoping Jase wasn't outside or unable to answer.

The phone gave several shrill rings, seeming to go ignored before finally the ringing stepped with a small click and a soft, familiar voice answered, "Hello?"

Phones were expensive, as were the lines to connect them to the network. However, what was new for the humans had been around a long time for Reapers. Undertaker had had one in his collection from his working days with the dispatch, and he knew how to wire it in, which he had before he left for London.

"Jase, my dear!" said Undertaker with excitement, thrilled and relieved to hear the sound of his voice. For the first time since beginning his journey to England, a familiar smile graced his lips. "I've just made it to the Viscount's home in England, and I thought I'd check up on you. We can't make it long, but I just couldn't resist. How has everything been, love?"

"Chronus!" The voice squeaked in excitement, "I've missed you—Sorry I took so long, I was in the bath—slipped in the mud earlier. It's been raining a lot here. How have your travels been?"

"Terribly boring," sighed the reaper, but his grin only grew brighter. "Hearing your voice makes up for that, however. How did you manage to slip in the mud, pet?"

"I tried to jump it…" Jase admitted, "It was too large to step over, and too deep to not bother caring about… but my foot landed wrong and I fell back into it."

Undertaker giggled sharply before he could stop himself, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to cover it up. "Well, that's...unfortunate. I wish I were there to bathe the dirt from that sweet body of yours myself."

The reaper could almost picture the look on his husband's face, and the stern—and possibly naked—pose he took on as his voice drifted over the line again, "You only mean that it's unfortunate because you aren't here to do so!"

"No denying that," admitted Undertaker with a lecherous grin. He heard the Viscount calling out for him and he sighed. "Hmph, well my good mood just got pissed on. My host is looking for me, lovely. I'm afraid I'll have to cut this short; but I'll phone you again when I'm ready to leave and come back to you. Try not to fall in any mud again until I'm home to bathe it off of you. In fact, feel free to drizzle your body with chocolate when you see my carriage coming up the path at the end of the week; I would delighted in licking it off of you."

Silence followed, and the reaper was sure he'd made his groom blush a lovely shade of red.

"M-my water is probably getting warm anyway—I should finish washing." He couldn't get the water as cold as Undertaker could, and his inability to feel temperatures made it difficult for him. He had to be careful not to overheat himself. "I love you and come back home soon."

Undertaker caressed the phone in his hand, wishing it were Jase's cheek. "I love you too, darlin'. I'll see you in a few days."

He hung it up with a sigh, and he exited the study to find Druitt in the hallway. Undertaker looked at him suspiciously, but he kept his smile fixated on his lips. He wondered how much the Viscount might have heard if he was eavesdropping, but he shrugged it off. He didn't say anything out loud that could lead anyone to Jase, if by some slim chance Druitt was planning to betray him.

"There you are, my fine, morbid friend!" Druitt offered a hand and Undertaker shook it. "Why, I almost didn't recognize you! You're dressed so finely, like a gentleman!"

Undertaker grinned. "Couldn't very well come trotting back into London in my usual attire, could I? One look at me and anyone searching for me would know who I was."

"Quite true, quite true," agreed the blond man with a vigorous nod. He took in the ribbon-tied ponytail and the outfit with his eyes. "I daresay though, this look really suits you. What a handsome visage you have, when it isn't covered by all that hair! And the three-piece suite is so much better than those drab robes you-"

"Begging your pardon, Viscount," interrupted the reaper with a pat to his stomach, "but I'm feeling a bit peckish. The butler said something about dinner..."

"Oh, yes," said the noble, instantly contrite. "Right this way, my friend. We shall eat, and then we shall talk about the 'guest' in my basement."

Undertaker nodded. "That sounds good to me."

* * *

 

Jase smiled, hanging up the phone and turning back to his bath, slipping into the tub and quickly washing the mud from his hair, ducking under the water to rinse. When he came back up, he sighed, leaning back to relax a moment longer in the water. He missed his husband terribly—but he trusted him to come home.

The wind picked up, and Jase ignored it as it made the candles lighting the bathroom flicker and go out, leaving only the moonlight filling the room.

* * *

 

It was a fine meal, indeed. Undertaker stuffed himself with roasted pig, wild rice, spiced carrots and wine, following up with a selection of fresh fruit. He and the Viscount sat for a while after dining, allowing the food to settle in their bellies. The reaper grinned and patted his stomach with a sigh. People could say what they liked about Druitt's moral character, but the man knew how to host a feast. Undertaker was a fair cook himself, but he hadn't enjoyed a meal so fine since before he became a fugitive.

"Shall we get down to business, my friend?" suggested the Viscount after finishing off his wine. "I'd rather not leave the prisoner in my basement, you understand. I'm due to host a ball soon, and his screams for help might raise a few unwanted questions."

Undertaker nodded and pushed back his chair, standing up and covering a burp with one hand. "Right, let's get this over with. I have some things I'd like to discuss with you afterwards, and I don't intend to stay in this country for more than one night, if I can help it."

"Of course!" Druitt nodded enthusiastically, his pale golden locks falling partway over his eyes with the motion. He pushed them back with an elegant hand clad in a white silk glove. "Pardon my rudeness in keeping you. I do so enjoy your company, but I understand your reluctance to stay when your...former associates...are out looking for you. We also have our business to resume."

"Hmm, our business," mulled Undertaker. "Yes, we need to discuss that."

"Is something wrong?"

The reaper chose not to get into it, just now. "We'll talk about it after I've seen to this chap that turned me in. Take me to him."

"As you wish."

* * *

 

Undertaker looked at the human that had betrayed him, pacing back and forth in the giant, iron bird cage he'd been placed in. When he looked up and saw the reaper, he immediately paled and his eyes flicked around with animal desperation. "Oh please, my lord," he implored Druitt, "D-don't let him kill me!"

Undertaker grinned, recognizing Mr. Talbot. "Hi, hi. What makes you think death is on the menu, boy? I've a special and fitting punishment in mind for you."

He approached the cage and combed his bangs out of his eyes to have a better look at the frightened young man. He looked him up and down, sensing the aura of death all around him. "You've been very busy with my former associates, haven't you?"

"Th-they caught me," insisted the prisoner. "I was on my way to a Phoenix Society meeting, when two of them dragged me into an alley and s-said they could smell the death on me. They...they knew I'd been working with the dolls, sir! They said no harm would come to me or my family if I would inform them of where they could find you. Please, I didn't _want_ to betray anyone! Th-they were like you...not human...and I was frightened!"

Undertaker absorbed the information and he cast a dry look at the Viscount. "Not very good at holding his tongue, is he? I expected I'd need to persuade the information out of him."

The blond man raised a brow. "He certainly didn't tell us this much. He held up under torture rather well, in fact. All he would say is that some of 'your kind' made him do it, and he would not go into specifics. Oh dear...he's gone and wet himself!" He wrinkled his nose and produced a lacy handkerchief from a vest pocket to cover his nose. "Master Undertaker, you do have a talent for inspiring fear in your enemies."

"Heheh, so I do," the reaper chuckled grimly. He looked at the traitor in question, taking note of the many bruises and dried blood on him, as well as the dark stain spreading over the crotch of his trousers. "Come now, Mr. Talbot; pissing yourself won't delay your fate. If you'd like to save yourself, I suggest you rectify this situation."

"H-how do I do that?" whined the man, backing away from the reaper until his back was against the far end of the cage.

"Contact them again and tell them I've concluded my business with the Phoenix Society," answered the reaper. "Tell them that I have ceased all production of the dolls and have vanished from the face of the earth. Tell them you have no idea where to find me."

"They w-would know I was lying," excused the young man, looking up at Undertaker's strange, dual-colored eyes with fear. "They would s-see right through it, and they'll kill me!"

Undertaker stepped closer, and he curled his long, bone-pale fingers around the bars and pressed his head against them, smiling coldly down at the cringing man. "And what do you think _I'll_ do to you, boy? I won't just kill you...oh, no. I can turn you into one of my dollies. You'll be a soulless wretch, hungering for something you can never have again. Your torment will last forever; or until your body is destroyed, but your soul will be lost—ravaged beyond repair—and you'll spend your afterlife as a pitiful poltergeist, wandering the realms of the dead and the living without ever finding your place. I can do that, you know. Most of my Bizarre Dolls have already escaped their mortal coils through death by other means, by the time I get to work and reanimate the husks left behind...but not you, my fine friend. I'll give you a painful death, mutilate your face and then raise you back up as a special dollie. Would you prefer that fate over a clean death?"

"No, my lord! Please!" The man began to sob and shake, sinking down to the floor as his legs lost the strength to support his weight. "Please, don't do this to me! I beg you!"

"Then cooperate," insisted the reaper, "and you may yet live a while longer. If not, at least your soul will be free to go to Heaven...or Hell, as is more likely with the red in your ledger."

The young man wept and whimpered in his cage, but after a moment, he looked up at Undertaker again and he seemed to calm down, somewhat. "Th-they were right."

Undertaker's smile didn't falter. "About what, exactly?"

It was then that he realized what was making him uneasy about the prisoner. He'd expected him to have the reaper aura clinging to him, seeing as he'd done business with Dispatch, but it finally dawned on him how fresh it was. He stared at the young man, feeling a chill go up his spine.

"They...said you wouldn't be able to resist returning, when you got the news I'd b-been captured. They promised me a reward if I'd let myself get c-caught, so they could track me and—"

"What is he babbling about?" demanded the Viscount.

Understanding that he had indeed been led into a trap—though not of Druitt's making, Undertaker reacted with fury he didn't know he could still possess. He summoned a sotoba and he hurled it with deadly force through the bars of the cage with enough force to skewer the little weasel within. The pointed end of the grave marker drove clean through the soft human flesh and came out dripping on the other side. Blood bubbled on his lips as Mr. Talbot gagged and put his hands around the wooden stake, tugging in futility. He fell to the side and lay dying in a pool of blood as Undertaker whirled around to face Druitt.

"I'm afraid I have to take my leave of you now," informed the reaper as he began to gather the dark energy to create an emergency portal back to his home. "Keep the suitcase and its contents, if you like. I won't be needing it."

It was too late. Several portals were already opening all around them, and Undertaker would never be able to finish creating his own in time, seeing as it required more effort and time to make it untraceable. He gave up on it and he called forth his death scythe as William T. Spears, Grell Sutcliff, Alan Humphries, Eric Slingby and Ronald Knox appeared.

"On second thought," revised Undertaker, "I might be taking that case with me after all. I'd advise you to leave the room, Viscount. This is going to get rather messy."

* * *

To be continued...


	24. Chapter 24

"Oh, Unnie~" The redheaded reaper purred as his green gaze took in the appearance of the wanted reaper, "How stunning you look today~ A lady could fall even harder for you when you show off that physique of yours~"

"Behave yourself Grell, don't forget why we are here." Alan sighed, moving around to quickly collect the soul of the man in the cage.

"Just because Unnie's a wanted criminal, doesn't mean I can't enjoy the view~"

"Keep your mind on business for once, Grell Sutcliff," scolded William. He stood at the head of the group next to Ronald, and he adjusted his glasses with his scythe and looked at Druitt—who still hadn't moved from the spot. "I would advise you to vacate, Viscount. This man is a criminal and we've been charged to bring him in."

Eric looked at the ruin that was the prisoner. "Seems like Undertaker found out the truth and took it personally."

"He could take me personally~" Grell giggled, ignoring William's glare, "I'll take all his passion~"

"Uhg, Senpai…" Ronald groaned and then looked at William, "Why'd we bring him again?"

"Ron, focus." Alan advised, taking his place surrounding the wanted reaper. He eyed Undertaker, "Will you come quietly this time, or must we resort to force? This isn't like Germany, Undertaker, we have the back-up we need."

Undertaker nodded, his grin remaining stationary on his lips. "So I've noticed. Fortunately for me, I've got nothing holding me back, now."

He winked at Grell. "I think I'll start with the pretty red shark. Shall we dance, milady?"

He leaped high into the air and hurled a barrage of sotobas at the other reapers, while arching toward Grell with his death scythe swinging. Eric deflected one and hissed as another grazed his leg, while William barely sidestepped one and rolled under another. The Dispatch supervisor retaliated, his scythe extending and snapping out at Undertaker in an effort to pin him before he could touch down. He only snagged a few strands of pale hair, and he called out instructions.

"Close ranks on him. Don't allow him any fighting space."

The blade of Undertaker's scythe clashed with Grell's roaring chainsaw, and he grinned maniacally at him through the sparks. "My, my...quick on your feet, little dove. Fighting you is always entertaining."

He kicked out at Alan when he sensed him closing in, knocking him backwards into Eric.

"Uhff!" Alan scrambled up off Eric, moving in again.

"I owe you for marring my face on that ship, Darling~" Grell cooed, "Handsome or not, I won't forgive! This is a dance of revenge, not romance!"

Ronald's scythe roared from above as the youngest reaper came down, blades twirling as they descended upon the elder.

Undertaker jumped out of the way. "I'd advise you to move, Madame Sutcliff," he said with a snicker as Ron's trajectory threatened to mow into the face Grell so adored, now that he was no longer between them. The expression of horror on the young blond's face was enough to make him crack up—but then he felt a stinging pain as William's scythe ripped into his arm.

"And I'll advise _you_ not to underestimate the Dispatch, Legendary Death," said the brunet smoothly, "and save your taunting for the schoolyard."

"Hmm, I'll keep that in mind." With a pained grimace and a frozen smile, Undertaker yanked the weapon out of his flesh, held the end of it firmly in hand and retaliated, his ancient scythe moaning through the air faster than William could hope to avoid.

"MY HAIR!" Grell screeched. He'd managed to avoid Ronald's attack, but a good foot of a thick lock of hair had gotten caught in Ron's scythe, severing them and jamming the blades.

"My Scythe!" Ron countered.

"Your scythe can be fixed!"

"Your hair can grow back!"

"Stop bickering! The fight isn't with each other!" Alan yelled, swinging his scythe to deflect the Undertaker's attack, saving William from a major injury. "Where's that young man you seemed so intent on saving last time, Death?"

"He's in a safe place, where you lot can't get to him," answered the ancient with a grunt, losing hold of William's scythe.

He was forced to retreat from the supervisor and Alan, because Eric was now pressing in on him too and Alan was a formidable fighter, for one so young. He summoned a chill fog to obscure their view of him, relying more on his other senses to fight than they did.

"I don't see what the fuss is about," he said conversationally as he blocked an attack from Eric and sought out a high point to give him back his edge. "They were already dead, after all."

In his heart though, the reminder of his sweet spouse explaining to him the suffering he'd caused his dolls was like a physical pain, accosting him with fresh guilt and sapping his strength. He had to get back to Jase. He couldn't leave him alone...he'd promised.

"We have laws for a reason, old geezer!" Ron snapped, "And you caused more humans to die because of it!"

Alan noticed the reaper's hesitation, and he took advantage of it, stepping forward and twisting, yanking the scythe from Undertaker's grip, tossing it back to William who caught it. He then swung the back of his heel into Undertaker's jaw, sending him to his knees, his scythe at the reaper's neck. "You're distracted."

The first thought that went through Undertaker's mind was: ' _I've just been taken down by a baby,_ ' and he started to laugh.

"And what will you do if I choose not to yield, Mr. Humphries?" he challenged, peering up at him through the silver veil of his hair. "Someone's already tried to cut ol' Undertaker's throat once before."

The scythe was pressing against the very same spot, in fact, and it drew a trickle of blood as the ancient slowly began to get to his feet. "Be sure you finish me, youngster."

Eric joined his partner's side, and he put his own scythe against the back of Undertaker's bared neck, cutting through a few strands of long hair that hadn't fallen to the side with the rest. "If he doesn't, you can be sure I will," he promised.

"We have instructions to take you in alive, Legendary Death," informed William. "None of us here wish to reap you, but we will, if you don't yield. Think of your Frenchman. What will become of him, without you? Mr. Humphries gave a thorough report of what he saw and heard in Germany. We don't know what he is or why he is so important to you, but we do know you were willing to lay down your life to protect him."

"Still am," said Undertaker, and he kept rising. "You'll have to kill me, I'm afraid. I won't allow Dispatch to even attempt to extract information from me that might compromise his safety."

Eric cast an uncertain look at William as his blade began to draw blood, too. Undertaker was lifting his weapon, his eyes glittering with grim determination.

"We have his name." Alan stated simply.

"Yeah! Grell-senpai and I were in France chasing after you. Had a nice conversation with a lovely little innkeeper's wife. She was worried over the questionable company Jase Dubois was keeping."

"I doubt you have to be reminded how easy it is for us to pull his records in the library." Grell added as he fussed over his hair, "And with it…his exact location. He'll never know we're coming…" he looked up and smiled sadistically, "Or maybe we already have taken your cute little Frenchman to ensure you come quietly like a good boy~"

If he hadn't just spoken to Jase moments ago, Undertaker might have believed him. As it was, the threat to his spouse made an uncommon scowl of fury form on his lips. He'd never really disliked any of them before, finding them to be more of a nuisance than his enemies. Now, however...

Fog billowed around him without warning, and rather than use his scythe or grave markers, he caught up a broken wine glass and chucked it at Grell's smirking face. It hit with pleasing force, shattering and drawing blood. Undertaker felt his throat cut open from Alan's scythe as he dropped to the floor and aimed a sweeping kick at Eric's legs, knocking them out from under him. He choked on his own blood for a moment before forcing himself to stop breathing, and he rolled away and came to his feet in front of Ronald's startled face. To the blond, it must have seemed like he manifested from the fog like a phantom. Undertaker's elbow found his face, driving into the cheekbone hard enough to make him stagger.

He let the boy drop; he wasn't his target. Undertaker was focused on the redhead that had so blatantly threatened his beloved, all charitable feelings gone like so much piss in the wind.

"Grell, you idiot!" Ronald cursed as he picked himself up, trying to peer through the fog.

"What? It's—oof!" Grell cursed as something collided with his gut.

Undertaker appeared out of the fog, glaring into Grell's startled eyes, and his teeth were coated with his own blood as he grinned maniacally at him. "Shouldn't have said that, chap."

He head-butted Grell, further damaging his beloved face. He heard William shouting something and he sensed Eric and Alan closing in from either side, but right now, all he wanted to do was fuck up Grell Sutcliff's face for daring to threaten Jase.

"H-hey! Old man! He didn't mean it!" Ron called out, not knowing which way people were, "I mean, yeah, we gotta look into the guy—he's obviously not human, after all, but—"

"Knox, you aren't helping!" Alan cut him off.

Undertaker wrapped his fingers around Grell's throat, and he began to lay into him with the other.

"Miserable little narcissist," growled the reaper, punching him again and again. He didn't even want to kill him...he just wanted to hurt him, and since he prized his face so much, it stood to reason that destroying it was the best way to do that. He was so enraged that he began to shred said face with his fingernails, digging them in and ripping the flesh like a wild animal, ignoring Grell's screams.

"Undertaker! Enough!" Eric began to try and pull him off. "Don't make us kill you!"

"Move aside," barked William as he drew a Shinigami manufactured pistol and took aim at the furious elder. "All of you, move!"

"AS—GAHHK—IF I—STOP! –COULD!" Grell screamed, twisting and clawing to get free.

Alan leapt back, Eric pulling Ronald out of the way.

William fired a shot from his specialized firearm, and a plumed dart struck Undertaker in the shoulder. The ancient went stiff with surprise, and he tried to reach back and pull it free. A second one joined the first, and as he started to falter, the old death god uttered a sincere, grim promise.

"I'll tear...your realm apart if...you harm him..."

He collapsed on top of his screaming victim then, leaving Eric to pull him off and roll him away.

"Grell…are you okay?" Alan helped the redhead up.

"Do I bloody well look okay?! This better not be permanent or I—"

"Grell." Alan sighed, interrupting him, "You need to start thinking before you speak. It's obvious Dubois is something special to him. Letting him know we know about him is one thing. It's another to flat-out threaten this young Frenchman so openly."

"But we already are investigating him! Will sent reapers out after him—I heard him give the order!" Grell protested with a whimper as he pulled out a hand mirror to survey the damage to his face.

"Yes, but taunting him with that information was crass and foolish," said William calmly, looking down at Grell's ravished face. "The evidence lies before us; he's a changed man. I've never seen the Undertaker so rattled."

Eric snorted. "Rattled? That's a mild description. He was flat-out pissed off."

William raised a brow and looked down at the fallen ancient with interest. "Indeed."

Eric glanced at Alan. "If you ask me, I'd say the old man's in love. Nothing can change a person faster than that, reaper or human." He sidled closer to his partner and murmured into his ear. "Are you okay?"

Alan nodded and smiled up at his lover—his husband. They had taken their vows under the moon three years prior, "You already know I'm fine." He gave his hand a squeeze. They were in public—and public displays of attraction, while Eric seemed to love it and flaunt it, Alan didn't appreciate much. He liked to keep their private life private.

"But I think you are right on that…he got as reckless as you when you think I'm in danger. He defiantly holds deep feelings for Dubois…we can find out more when he's brought to Dispatch… William." He looked up at their boss, "I propose that once in custody, the Frenchman remains unharmed. Death would be more willing to behave knowing that he is safe and untouched."

William nodded in accord. "I agree. Knox, escort Sutcliff to the infirmary in our realm. Humphries and Slingby, you will join me in bringing Death in for incarceration, after that, I will personally oversee the capture of Jase Dubois. If he does indeed present an angle we can use to ensure the Undertaker's cooperation, we must take advantage of it. I will see to it that the boy isn't harmed.

Eric nodded and he leaned closer to his spouse. "I think you should represent Undertaker at court."

Alan blushed slightly at the suggestion, "I shall offer the option. He stands a better chance having another represent him…but he still has the option to represent himself. In any case, we have a few days to speak with him and to try and get him to talk. Dubois may be key in getting that to happen…if Sutcliff stays out of things."

Grell huffed as Ronald opened a portal and helped him through it, "I wouldn't help an abusive, no-good, rotten, dir—" his rant was cut off when the portal closed behind he and the young blond.

Alan sighed, and began opening a portal to the Reaper Court and Law Enforcement offices as Will and Eric gathered Undertaker to move him through it where he'd be placed in a cell specially designed for rogue reapers of such a level. Reaper trap sigils, as well as sigils designed to stop the summoning of scythes covering the cell walls and bars. It was a shame that Undertaker—a legendary reaper—would be held in such a way. No one liked the idea, but no one could deny the crimes the man had committed so openly.

* * *

To be continued...


	25. Chapter 25

After his bath, Jase dried off and stretched, dressing quickly in his pajamas (Or rather, one of Undertaker's clean shirts. He missed the man, and no one would know) before he settled in bed by the candlelight, a book in hand, and a glass of cool water ready on the side table. He read for a few hours before his eyes began to droop, and he marked his place, closing the book and blowing out the candle before settling down in the large empty bed, snuggling his cheek into Chronus' pillow.

Minutes ticked by on the clock, the soft ticks lulling the Doll to sleep—until the sound of foot steps startled him. Someone was in the cottage, moving around the main floor.

No, this was bad…if someone broke into the cottage, there was a good chance they were thieves; someone who would set off his Doll-like state. Of course, it could also be simply a poor lost soul seeking shelter from the rain, which had started up again while he was reading. They might not have known that the cottage was occupied. But he had no way of telling—without putting them in danger of himself.

Silently, he slipped out of bed and moved to the closet, locking himself in, hoping that his doll-mind wouldn't be able to know how to unlock the door.

* * *

 

 

William looked around as he and his entourage entered the cottage, reaching out with his reaper senses. A frown marred his brow as he took in everything. Alan didn't exaggerate; there was a strange aura all over the place. He couldn't call it ' _death'_ , exactly...but it was certainly not natural.

"Search every room," he instructed his companions. Already, he could sense the unusual energies emanating from upstairs. "You, come with me."

He ascended the stairwell, taking note of little things along the way. This wasn't what he would have expected of Undertaker's home. There was woodwork art everywhere, and it was quite good. Carvings of dragons, knights, elegant calligraphy, flowers...he could understand the last, but the rest was a mystery to him. He expected something grim and perhaps a little...pink...but this had him perplexed.

He reached the top of the stairs and he looked around. He could sense a presence that was neither mortal nor reaper, demon or angel. "Mr. Dubois," he called out, "I am William T. Spears. We aren't here to cause you harm. We have your companion in our custody and I'm afraid you'll have to come with us, if you wish to help him. Do you hear me, Jase?"

Jase gasped. These people—they were reapers, then? And they had Chronus? No! No, he had just spoken to him! he'd arrived safely! It was a trick. It had to be. They wanted to lure him out, and if he listened, they'd find out what he was…and they'd kill him…Chronus' heart would shatter—he knew it. He had to stay hidden—safe. He had to have faith that Chronus would return for him.

The doll reached out, feeling along the shelves until he found his carving set. It was better than nothing. He quietly felt for the largest tool and held it, ready to attack if he needed. It might at least slow the reaper down while he ran…

William made his way into the master bedroom, following his senses. "Jase," he called out again, "there is no need to be afraid. You've already met one of my colleagues. His name is Alan Humphries. He saw you in Germany. I don't want to hurt you or your...whatever Undertaker is to you. He faces trial by the high council of our organization."

He looked around the bedroom with narrowed eyes. He could sense the presence in the closet, and while he kept his scythe lowered, he was prepared to use it. "Your testimony could help him, Mr. Dubois. You can either come with us freely, or we can take you by force. I prefer the former option, myself. I have no desire to see Undertaker harmed. He was...he is...my idol. I personally chose this case because I wanted to see him fairly treated."

Realizing that he was basically pouring his heart out to a stranger, William frowned. "Come now; Undertaker is in quite a bind. Do you care for him at all?"

Jase trembled. Of course he cared…but how could he trust this William Spears? He wasn't wearing his blindfold, if William knew the physical traits of a Bizarre Doll…he'd identify and kill him on the spot, and even if Chronus was in their custody…if he was dead, he was of no help to his husband! Jase took a deep breath to steady his nerves.

William approached the closet, still speaking in a low voice. "I know where you are, Jase. I can sense your...unusual aura. I won't try to force you out if I don't have to, though."

He stopped before the closet and he waved one of the other reapers away when he finished downstairs and came in to join him. "I'd much rather you and I have a talk. After all..." he nudged his glasses up on his nose via use of his scythe, "...if any harm comes to you, Undertaker won't cooperate at all, will he? I think it's in everyone's best interest that you come out and speak with me."

"…How—" Jase choked out weakly before clearing his throat and trying again. He could see the shadow of the man under the door. He knew he'd been found. Staying silent wouldn't help him, "How do I know I can trust you?" he gripped his carving tool.

William kept his scythe lowered, and he spoke in a calm, factual voice. "Because you have no choice. We can take you by force, or you can come by your own free will and have the chance to see Undertaker and help absolve him of his crimes. What will it be, Mr. Dubois? I'm on a time schedule and I would rather see this through sooner than later."

"…You won't kill me..?" Jase's voice came through the door, "Because I fully have a problem with that idea."

Not even William could resist a smile in response to that. He covered his lips properly and coughed. "You have my word, Mr. Dubois. No one will kill or harm you. All we want is for you to come with us to Dispatch and help us form a defense for Legendary Death...whom you know as Undertaker, I presume."

"…Neither of those titles are his name…" he murmured, standing up in the closet and unlocking the door. Slowly, he pushed it open and looked up at the reaper, a hint of distrust in his swirled blue eyes.

William took one look at the doll, and his senses left him. "Undertaker," he breathed, "what have you done?"

* * *

 

He was sulking. The old Undertaker never would have allowed himself to be captured. He didn't blame Jase at all; he blamed himself for allowing love to cloud his senses and distract him. The old reaper couldn't remember the last time he lost control of his temper, that way. While a part of him took sadistic delight in the damage he'd done to Grell Sutcliff's face, another part of him felt a little bad for it. Grell had a mouth on him—that was just a given. It was in his nature to taunt others to get a rise out of them, and Undertaker took the bait, hook, line, and sinker.

Now he was stuck in this high security cell, unable to summon the death scythe that had become so attuned to him it could not be taken away. The inhibiting energies surrounding him prevented him from using any of his reaper abilities. He couldn't even retract his fingernails. They fed him three meals a day, and so far he'd spent two of them in their prison. On the first day, Spears questioned him and on the second, Humphries did it. He much preferred the company of young Alan to the cold, emotionless company of William. Alan seemed sympathetic to his plight, and he possessed a compassion that the others lacked. He said he knew what it was like to love someone so completely that everything else seemed insignificant. He said he'd do what he could to convince the courts to be merciful, and when asked about Jase, he looked away and said that he couldn't give him further information about that.

So...they _did_ have him, then. It made Undertaker's heart ache with dread. He could vaguely sense the doll's distress, but he'd been hoping that it was just a symptom of worry for him, and not brought about by capture and interrogation.

Undertaker sat on the floor with his back to the wall, and he bent his legs and hugged his knees miserably. He didn't give a damn what happened to him, but the thought of Jase being experimented on or destroyed as an abomination made him hurt so badly inside, he could hardly bear it.

Alan had returned, and was sitting in a chair outside of the holding cell, "Death…believe it or not we are trying to help you. The Highers wanted you on trial as soon as we had you in custody, but we wish you to have a fair trial. You could get out of this with minimal punishment. Let me represent you in court. You'll have the chance to say anything you wish in your defense, but I'll be able to call witnesses to the stand…people who could talk for you, not just against you."

Undertaker looked up at the seated officer, studying him covertly from beneath his bangs. "I want to know what's being done to my...to Jase." He'd very nearly said 'my husband', but he was wary of trusting even this gentle young reaper, just yet. "He's an innocent. He never should have been involved in this to begin with. When I see him alive and unharmed, we can discuss your terms."

"I can't talk about that, Death. William's taken full control over the—Frenchman. Only he sees him or speaks with him. But as I understand it, it is so that Dubois remains unharmed." He knew he shouldn't speak about the Bizarre Doll they had in custody at all, but he was sure Undertaker knew they had him. So he gave him that confirmation, at least. "What is he to you?"

Undertaker hesitated, and he dragged his bangs out of his eyes and stood up. "Come closer, so that I can see you better," he said. "I'm a good judge of character...most of the time. I want to look into your eyes before I answer that."

Alan sighed and did so. He had to trust the older reaper if he wanted to be trusted, after all. Though he had no doubt Eric would scold him for it if he found out.

Undertaker approached the bars of his cell and he looked deeply into the young reaper's eyes, measuring him. He could have reached out and attacked him through the bars if he wanted to, but so far, Alan was the only one of them in this hellhole that had shown him any measure of kindness or sympathy. He started to get a feeling in his bones as he gazed into his eyes, and he reached out slowly through the bars to touch the shorter man's face.

"You've pledged yourself," he murmured. "You have a spouse...your partner."

"Eric." Alan nodded, blushing lightly, "Silly, I know…I'm dying, after all, but he can be extremely convincing when he puts his heart into it…" The brunet paused, "…You have, as well…The Frenchman? It's so fresh…definitely less than a year…"

Undertaker nodded, giving in. "Yes. Jase is my spouse. I...I created him, in a manner of speaking. He was dying when I found him, lying in a pool of his own blood and burning up from the inside out. Angels attacked him, you see..."

In spite of his misgivings, he began to tell Alan about the events that led to his turning Jase into a doll and eventually pledging himself to him. When he was finished, he heaved a sigh and sat down on the small sleeping cot in the room. He wasn't certain what made him open up to Alan, except that he truly sensed his empathy with him.

"I never intended it," murmured the ancient at last. "He was just a curiosity, at first...a chance to perfect my 'art'. The little bugger grew on me before I knew it though, and I fell hard for him. He is alive, as I'm sure your people have noticed, but he's stuck between worlds. He isn't like the others. He's completely sentient. I...saved him from death, of course, but in the process, I damned him to an eternity of being neither fully living nor fully dead."

He became animated again, standing up to pace his cell. "Mr. Humphries, if you are truly sincere in your desire to help us, make sure that my Jase gets regular access to cold water...and raw meat, if possible. He could burn up if he isn't properly hydrated or cooled, and if that happens, I swear I will destroy this place and everyone in it, one way or the other."

"I—I'll see what I can do for him…" Alan stepped away from the bars, "Maybe you should start talking so we can help you, though—for his sake. He needs you just as much as you need him. Think on that. I'll be back." He turned and walked off, intent on finding William—warning him that Jase needs to be kept cool and hydrated.

Undertaker sighed. He despised negotiation; particularly when it involved putting himself out with little to no promise of reward. He wondered how badly they needed his cooperation. He needed to see his spouse...it was a physical ache in him, and he couldn't simply give in until he knew for certain that Jase was all right.

* * *

 

Jase sat in a small, plain room with a table, two chairs, and a cot. The room was too bright. And he hid his face in his arms which rested on his knees. He'd stepped out of the closet, and while he hadn't been treated roughly, he hadn't been allowed to dress—or grab his blindfold off the side table. As a result, he'd kept quiet, not speaking at all to the reaper holding him in the small locked, well-lit room. Not even to ask for water—which he knew he needed, or to tell him why he didn't touch the plate of food he'd been offered.

William entered the room, carrying with him a pitcher of ice water and a glass. He looked at the doll with veiled curiosity as he set the items down on the small table, noticing that the prisoner hadn't touched his meal.

"I've been informed that you require plenty of water," he said coolly, "and darkness." He flicked the light switch to dim the overhead lights, plunging the room into blessed darkness. "So, that's why you wear the blindfold. Please, drink your fill. I'll be sure to have more brought to you at every hour, Mr. Dubois."

Jase blinked in surprise, lifting his head up. Slowly, he shifted off the cot and walked over to the table, taking the glass and filling it. Finally able to quench the thirst that had been building up. He was being stubborn—he had a right to be—but he was not without his manners. He looked up at William, "Thank you."

The reaper inclined his head in brief acknowledgement. "Your companion's cooperation depends on your well-being, so I'm told."

He watched the Frenchman drink, and he thought back on his conversation with Alan. "I can offer no guarantees, but if you will give your testimony and allow us to study you, the court may be lenient on your companion."

"Study me?" Jase set down the already half-empty glass, "I'm not some mindless creature to be studied! I know what I am, I know who I am—and I'm not a danger to anyone! –ah…as long as Chronus is with me…"

"You've used that name before," murmured William, jotting down information on his notepad. "I presume that is the name you know your master by?"

"He's not my master, and it's not the name I know him by, it's his name. 'Legendary Death' and 'Undertaker' are simply titles he held in the past." Jase stated, "He saved my life when he turned me into a Doll…but I'm not like the others!"

"So I've noticed," answered the Dispatch supervisor in a level tone. "But what else is he, to you? You're clearly sentient, and you appear to be capable enough on your own. What holds you to him?"

"…Myself." He looked up at the reaper, crossing his arms, "I could leave him if I wished. But I choose to stay. Maybe at first it was a 'Master-creation' relationship. I was his masterpiece and he wasn't going to simply let me walk away. I was too valuable. But then, I needed him just as much as he wanted to observe what he created in me. I have no wish to harm anyone—good or evil. But if a soul is dark enough I have a hard time controlling the urge to sink my teeth in. He can hold me back. He stops me from doing what I don't want to do. No one has to get hurt. Yes, I could go live as a hermit where I won't have to worry about hurting others, but I choose to stay with him."

Jase's gaze darkened slightly, "And if you have harmed him I may think twice about not wanting to hurt anyone, Mister Spears."

The reaper's mouth twitched. "You needn't worry about that. He sustained minor injuries in the struggle when we captured him, but they've since healed and he's been well-treated. Your 'Chronus' is a living legend amongst my kind; a piece of Shinigami history in the flesh. He's far too important to us, to be destroyed."

William tilted his head slightly, studying the young man. "However, he must answer for his crimes. My colleagues and I are pushing for leniency, but in order to procure such a verdict, we need both of you to cooperate with us. Does that sound fair, Mr. Dubois?"

"…He's already promised not to bring back the dead anymore…isn't that enough? We just wish to live in peace…" Jase slumped into one of the chairs, "…I want to see him again…"

"When you have agreed to testify on his behalf and allow us to study you," said William, adjusting his glasses, "I may be able to make that happen. There won't be any cutting or prodding, Jase. Management just needs to understand how he did what he did, to turn you into what you are. He's given his account of the events that led to your relationship, but he refuses to explain the process of his alterations to us. I believe that if we can get your cooperation, then his will soon follow and visits can be arranged."

He shook his head, "I'll testify, but I won't be treated like…like some monster you don't understand! I'm still a person!"

"We just need to understand how he altered you," insisted William. "And should you fall ill, our doctors will need to understand how to treat you, as well. Whether you are a person or not isn't up for debate, Mr. Dubois. If we didn't think of you as such already, I would not be standing here negotiating with you."

"No." Jase knew he shouldn't get so worked up—but he couldn't help it. It was his body, his free will. He came for Chronus' sake, and now they wouldn't even let him see his own husband! He was tired and frustrated and…and he was angry. Angrier than he could remember ever being before. The emotion brought up his body temperature, the holy flames feeding off it as his skin flushed a pinker tone with heat. Of course it didn't help that the room he was kept in was also a warm room, which he didn't know. "I came here of my own will! You didn't capture me. I'm not a prisoner! I still have my rights, and I say you'll not subject me to experiments to find out how I was created!"

William regarded him with faint alarm, his expression still aloof despite his concern. "Drink your ice water, Mr. Dubois. You appear to be getting overheated. Again, I never suggested experimentation. You won't be strapped down to an examination table and prodded. Most of this study would consist of simply answering our medic's questions regarding your physiology..."

He could see the sweat break out on Jase's forehead, and it didn't escape his notice that it was evaporating quickly. Wonderful. The last thing he needed was for the only thing keeping Undertaker remotely cooperative to burn himself up in a fit of temper. William produced his communication device from his blazer and he pressed a number on it.

"This is Spears. I need a medic in holding room 6-B immediately."

"You said you wanted to know how he did what he did to me. I can't simply answer that, because I don't know. You'd have to ask Chronus that, and if he's not talking then why bother?"

"Oh, honestly," snapped William, his temper finally getting the better of him. "One of you needs to begin talking, and I don't care who. Upper management has charged me with the task of getting a better understanding of you, so that Death's case can be more thoroughly examined. If you love your maker and want to see him, you'll stop acting like a spoiled child and agree to answer the questions asked of you. I can only do so much for either of you when you're both being intransigent brats."

The medic arrived in a hurry; a female with coppery hair and a petite figure. "Mr. Spears, sir," she greeted with a little bow. Her dual-colored eyes settled on Jase, her expression softening on the small Frenchman. "This is the patient?"

"Yes, Mrs. Skies. Jase, meet Dr. Skies. Please allow her to see to you, before you fry yourself like an egg."

The young woman approached with a gentle smile on her freckled face. "May I?" she asked politely, looking at him with concern.

"Ah?" Shocked, and unaware he'd grown so warm, he looked down at his hands. "Am…I warm?"

The doctor reached out to gently lay a hand over his forehead, and she hissed in surprise. "Oh! You're more than warm...you're burning up! Mr. Spears, we need to get him cooled down, fast! I know he's more than a common mortal, but this temperature is dangerous!"

"Then get him cooled down," suggested William with annoyance. "Do what you need to do."

The doctor retrieved her own communication device from her pocket and she called her division. "This is doctor Skies. I need an ice bath prepared for a patient, stat!"

Looking at Jase and the way his clothes were beginning to smolder, William made a judgment call. "I don't think we have time for that, doctor." To Jase, he said: "I understand that Undertaker can cool you off quickly. It seems you'll be paying him a visit sooner than expected, after all."

He was just down the hall in one of the high security cells, after all. William approached the doll, offering his hand. "Come with me, quickly. I have no intention of carrying you, Mr. Dubois."

"If…if I'm that hot I need to go fast before I get too weak again…" he stood up, drinking the rest of his water quickly and ignoring Will's hand, "I'll burn you…"

"Then let's be off," suggested the Dispatch agent. His concern wasn't simply out of the goodness of his heart; William had learned long ago not to allow sympathy to cloud his judgment. He simply couldn't afford to lose the doll.

The Doll nodded, his vision blurring slightly—he really was getting that hot. "Is…is it bright out there?" he asked as they hurried to the door.

As an afterthought, William fetched the blindfold and offered it to him, now that he knew its true purpose. "Here. Don't tarry, Mr. Dubois."

Jase hurriedly pulled it on, waiting for William to open the door and guided him out. He was starting to feel the heat already, and he let out a groan.

Undertaker looked up as the door to his holding room buzzed, and a wide, toothy smile lit up his face at the sight of Jase walking in behind Mr. Spears. His smile vanished when he saw how flushed he was, and the way his clothing had begun to smoke. So, he wasn't imagining the distress he'd been sensing from him. He approached the bars quickly, and William drew his death scythe as a warning reminder of his situation.

"Back up, while I unlock your cage to let him in," instructed the tall, stately brunet. "I understand you have a method of cooling him that will work faster than dropping him in ice water, so I will deactivate the inhibitors in this room to allow you to do so. You aren't to make a single threatening gesture, sir. Do you understand?"

The mortician nodded, stepping back. His gaze remained on his husband. "Do hurry it up, Mr. Spears. My darling is getting quite toasty." He didn't even care about revealing his affection for Jase; all that mattered to him right now was cooling him down and holding him in his arms, once again.

William obligingly opened the cage to allow Jase inside, and he shut and locked it again behind the doll while Undertaker embraced him. He walked over to the glowing panel on the wall by the door and he pressed his hand against it, making it go dim. Undertaker felt his powers return immediately, and he called upon the chill of the grave as he kissed his spouse on the forehead and held him close.

"They treating you alright, love?" He murmured into his hair, feeling like a piece of him that had gone missing was once again back in place where it belonged.

Jase had nearly collapsed into his arms by the time he had finally reached his husband, and he paused, letting the cold seep onto him again, calming the fires before he spoke, "They want to examine me…" he whispered, turning his head up to look at the reaper he loved.

Undertaker kissed the soft, parted lips, helpless to resist the temptation. "I know," he whispered against them with a frown, and he cast a mistrustful look at William. "They wouldn't tell me the details, though. What exactly do they want to do to you, my dear?"

He gave a small shrug, "They want to know how you made me…and I think how I work… Mister Spears said no cutting, but…I'm not sure how well I can trust him…" he paused again before pinching the reaper's arm, "And you promised not to get caught and to come home to me!"

Undertaker smiled sheepishly. "I did, didn't I? That promise might have been kept, but for a flamboyant redhead with a mouth too big for his own good. I...lost my temper. I should have been focusing on escape, but when Sutcliff threatened you, I lost my fool head."

He held him closer and kissed him on the lips. "I'm sorry, dearest. They apparently traced us back to our home after speaking with your friend Joy. She was just worried about you; couldn't have known she was doing any harm by helping them out. Evidently, she found me shifty and she wanted to be sure you were okay. Dispatch played her and I think they would have caught us even if I'd been home to defend you. I just can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

"As if I don't feel the same about you!" he said before switching to French, his words rolling off his tongue with obvious love, " _I married you just as you did me. I love you and worry about you—even if you can fight at a level I can not even comprehend. Chronus…I missed you…If they must examine me…I…I want you there the entire time…_ "

Undertaker nodded and rubbed his back. "Of course, love. Absolutely. We'll discuss it with our hosts once you've cooled off sufficiently."

With that said, he hugged him again, pressing him against his chest as he closed his eyes. "I was so very _worried_ for you. Forgive me?"

"Of course I do…but…I want to go home…I want the courts to let us _both_ go home. I just…I don't like it here…" Jase glanced out the corner of his eye at William.

William watched the exchange, understanding only half of it, since he wasn't fluent in French. He felt a stirring of...envy? There was an undeniable warmth between the legendary reaper and his doll...something that he never would have dreamed of. Undertaker had indeed changed, and he could understand Alan's sympathy for him. After all, Humphries had a spouse of his own and he could easily identify with both parties. William doubted he would ever feel that kind of warm affection and need. He'd long since learned to bottle his feelings and keep them to himself.

"What is it that you would like to discuss, sir?" he asked of Undertaker, pushing his envy to the figurative back shelf.

Undertaker looked up from his companion. "Jase may be willing to allow your people to 'examine' him, but only if I'm present. I agree. Nobody touches him without our mutual consent, and if your little drones attempt to force the issue, things will get very ugly, indeed."

William lifted a brow. "Bold words, for a man trapped in a customized cell."

"I don't make threats I can't carry out," countered the ancient. "You should know that by now, Mr. Spears."

William inclined his head gracefully. "Of course. Your love for this young man is all that keeps you in check. We are all very much aware of that. I will discuss it with the board and see what I can do, of course."

"Can I stay here?" Jase spoke up, "I wish to stay with Chronus."

William hesitated. He couldn't very well have the Frenchman dragged away when his well-being depended so highly on his proximity of his creator. "For now," he agreed, "but I cannot promise this will be a permanent arrangement. If you both cooperate, I may be able to make it so. Don't allow your hopes to soar too high. Senior management may disagree with my decision and if they do, my hands are tied."

Undertaker nodded in understanding, happy to at least be given the chance to be with his love and tend his needs. "If you can manage it, then I'm willing to tell you lot what you want to know. Just don't threaten Jase's safety."

William again felt a stirring of envy; and perhaps a bit of awe. What price did they pay, to be so devoted to each other? "I make no promises, but I will do my best."

"Thank you." Jase nodded to the man before snuggling back into his husband's chest.

William nodded curtly and he used his security key to exit the room. "Watch them," he said to the reaper guards standing outside the door. "I've turned down the inhibitors so that the Undertaker could use his abilities to see to his companion's needs, but they are still active enough to prevent any teleportation attempts. If the prisoners take any threatening actions, bring the inhibitors back up to full power and separate them...but do so with backup."

"Yes sir," agreed the guards in unison.

Satisfied that his orders were clear enough, William left the holding area and made his way up to his office on the top floor of the building. He was tired...to the point where he feared it would cripple his judgment. He hoped he'd made the right call with Undertaker and Jase. His exhaustion was making him soft. He stepped out of the elevator and traversed the corridor to his office, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his finger and his thumb. He was getting a headache. He'd need to take an aspirin.

It didn't help when he opened his office door and found Ronald Knox sleeping on his sofa. William pursed his lips in annoyance and approached the younger reaper. Ronald was on his side, facing the back of the sofa with his hands folded under his cheek in an annoyingly endearing way. William looked at his backside, facing out at him, and he found himself staring. Knox did have one of the most appealing little asses he'd ever seen...but that was beside the point.

Falling victim to impulse, William popped that delightful little bottom with the shaft of his scythe, startling poor Ronald out of his dreams and jolting him awake. The blond yelped as his movements caused him to roll off the couch, hitting the floor with a dull thud. With a groan, the rookie reaper sat up, yawning as he rubbed his head, "What was that for, senpai?" he complained his mind only half awake.

He'd been up all night, going through reports on Undertaker and trying to help gather information for when the ancient reaper went to court. Once he was done—at least for the night—he had let himself in his boss' office, placing the files on his desk. But the man's couch had looked all too tempting to the sleep-deprived boy. And he was sure it was both more comfortable, and definitely closer than his own couch in his small one-room apartment. A nap wouldn't hurt—or so he thought. "Senpai?"

"This is my office, not a break room," said William sternly after finding his tongue. Did the cheeky boy have to look so... _cute_ when just waking up? He blamed it all on Undertaker, his doll, Eric and Alan. He wouldn't be suffering the stupidity of infatuation now, if it weren't for there romantic posturing. Knox was his underling; nothing more.

While the boy floundered in confusion, William approached his desk and pulled out the top drawer. He frowned. His bottle of migraine strength aspirin was missing. "Ronald."

"Couch was closer than my apartment…" Ron yawned, "Sorry…how long have I—what time is it?" he asked, looking at his wrist-watch and groaning, "Only been a half hour!" he flopped back onto the couch.

"Ronald Knox, you get your tight bottom off of that couch right this instant and-" William broke off with horror, realizing what he'd just said. He forgot about his absent pills and he flushed. "Th-that is to say, remove yourself from my sofa and get back to work," he finished lamely.

"But I worked all night! I haven't gotten any sleep because of stupid work…" the boy complained, but smirked, "Besides, if my arse is so tight then maybe it'll be a nice view for you while you work."

William blinked. "I...beg your pardon?"

His blush deepened as his groin swelled in his pants, and he hunched a little in an effort to conceal the effect Ronald's words had on him. Well, it seemed _part_ of him was wide awake, even if his mind was numb with exhaustion.

"I'm exhausted, sir. I've been working hard, and I deserve a few hour nap. And I'm taking it. I could go home but that only means that with travel time, my break is longer and you'll have to wait for me to return to work."

William sighed. "Where is my aspirin?"

Maybe he'd just imagined Ronald's flirtatious suggestion. He was very, very tired himself, and he was sure he'd procured dark circles under his eyes, by now.

"How would I know? I just came in and dropped off the reports I had to go through. I only stole your couch." He flopped back over, tucking an arm under his head and curling up, "…'N I'm doing so again…g'night, Senpai."

"Why you little shit," snapped William, and he popped him on the bottom again. "Don't you dismiss me, Ronald Knox. I haven't given you permission to nap on my couch."

_'And I was going to sleep there...'_

Ronald squeaked again, "I'm off the clock…you're only m'boss when I'm working. Right now it's party time and I plan to party in my dreams so you can share."

William's head hurt and he was too tired to argue with the boy. He went to the side of the couch and he pressed a lever, before pulling on the bottom of it and making it shift into a futon. He ignored Ronald's squeak of surprise as he climbed onto it and lay down with him. Ronald had a way of clinging like kudzu when he laid down for naps...he'd physically tried to pull him out of bed one morning when he stopped by his apartment to see why he was late for work, and he ended up pulling all the sheets off with the blond, because he refused to let go of them even in his sleep.

"Move over," grumbled the supervisor, "Or I'll shove you off."

Pleased that his half-asleep stubbornness (that he was sure he'd never attempt if he had been awake) had worked, Ronald wiggled over to the half of the futon next to the wall, yawning again before closing his eyes and falling asleep once more.

* * *

To be continued...


	26. Chapter 26

They lay down on the cot together, with Undertaker pressed tightly against the wall to make room for his smaller companion. He did his best to comfort Jase and reassure him, but he honestly couldn't predict what would happen over the next few days. They eventually fell asleep in each others arms, and they were politely woken up by Alan and Eric when dinnertime came around.

"Sorry to wake you," Eric said as he wheeled the dinner tray in, along with a pitcher of ice water. "Here's your dinner, sir. I've been told your husband doesn't require food, but when we heard he can eat raw meat, Alan and I took the liberty of bringing a steak for him. I uh...didn't know how to make it fancy, so I hope plain and raw will be all right."

Undertaker wasn't that surprised by their generosity. He already knew Alan sympathized with him and Jase, and it was just logical that Eric would share his feelings. He eased off of the cot and offered a smile to the younger reapers.

"Your generosity is appreciated." He stepped back and allowed the blond man to wheel the tray into the cell, making no threatening moves. After all, Eric and Alan might be the closest things to allies they had in this place, right now.

Jase rubbed his eyes under his blindfold before sitting up and watching the two reapers. He recognized the smaller reaper, but not the blond. However, seeing them together, he could sense the bond between them—the same bond he shared with Chronus, and he gave them a small smile. They seemed warmer than William. Of course, William had so-far been the only reaper he'd had any real contact with since being brought into the reaper realm.

After bringing the cart in, Eric stepped back out of the cage and took a seat next to his spouse in one of the four chairs in the chamber. "Alan and I would like to discuss your case," he said as Jase and Undertaker sat down to eat. "Our supervisor tells us you might be willing to cooperate, if you're in the room with Jase to help answer questions when they examine him."

Undertaker looked at his husband. "If he agrees to it, then yes. It's still Jase's decision and nobody lays a finger on him without his consent."

"I'll continue to refuse if Chronus isn't here with me." Jase said simply, sipping the ice water and taking the plate of raw steak. He tried to ignore how raw it looked as he began to cut into it. He very much preferred his food looking more prepared. But, he knew he'd be able to taste it, and the two reapers had been kind enough to bring it for him.

"We understand," Eric assured. He put an arm around his smaller companion and smiled at him. "Alan's been working very hard to prepare your defense, Undertaker. He thinks he can get you a light sentence."

"Mm, so he's told me," sighed the ancient as he cut into his meat. "Call me Chronus, please. Undertaker is my surname now, and I'd say you chaps earned the right to be on a first-name basis with me."

He took a bite of his steak and he nodded in approval. "Not bad at all, for prison food. So, Alan, tell me what you need from me to build my defense. I imagine you'll want to know my motivations for creating the dolls, along with my intentions for them?"

"Yes. There is no denying that you have done it, which leaves your defense little room to move. I need to understand the events from your side of things before we can move on to discussing what we will present in court. But I will warn you, Un—Chronus…I'm an honest man, and I'll not lie for you in court. What we say must be the truth; we just need to word it in a way that the court may see it in a somewhat more positive light. Simply saying that you were bored won't cut it." He looked at Jase, "We also need to fully understand him. Why you turned him into a Doll…how you did. Why he isn't like the others. You explained it to me briefly, but it isn't nearly enough. Mister Dubois may be your best chance, and the fact he still has his free will, will be in your favor. It's why we must examine him. We need to prove to the court that he is not a danger to the lives of the living, that he's different than the others. If we can't do that then they would likely order that he be destroyed. The examination is for both of your sakes. We may even be able to put Mister Dubois under universal reaper protection."

The prospect of Jase being killed made Chronus' hand tighten around his fork, until it was digging into his skin. "They can do what they want with me, but Jase isn't to be harmed."

"That's why this is so important. It isn't just your life on the line. There is a purge that's been ordered. All Bizarre Dolls must be found and destroyed. But your mate—he's different. Even William could tell right away that he is. But the court will likely take one look at him and want him killed. We need every detail we can get in order to save his life—so he can help save yours."

The ancient tried to calm down and think rationally. He simply wasn't used to loving someone this much, and he didn't know how to control his emotions, when it came to Jase's well-being. "Right then; let's get started. I began my experimentation with the Bizarre Dolls because I wanted to discover how to extend life. So many mortals live and die without ever reaching their full potential, because their prime is so short. I suppose after centuries of viewing their cinematic records, it started to nag at me, how many of those dreams never get realized. I lost a dear friend...he died before his time, and I failed to stop it. His son is also doomed to suffer an untimely fate, and again, I can do nothing."

He took a deep breath, disturbed. He hadn't spoken of Vincent Phantomhive to anyone except for the dead, since the disaster took his and Rachel's life, and left Ciel an orphan and desperate enough to sell his soul to a demon for his revenge. "Not many people in my long life have been true friends," Undertaker went on, "but he was one of the few. I don't know if either of you lads have ever lost a true friend like that, but it took its toll on me. After it happened, I wanted to know why humans are made so fragile...why they must depart so quickly. I started my research after the Phantomhive manor was burned to the ground, but I didn't succeed in raising the dead until some time after the young Earl returned with his butler."

"The demon currently known as Sebastian Michaelis?" Alan nodded, giving Eric's hand a small squeeze.

Jase paused in his meal, looking across the food cart as he read his emotions.

"Yes. Oh, I have nothing personal against the demon. He is, after all, only doing what demons must do to eat. Still, his choice of meals is unfortunate, and a part of me thought that if I could make the little lord's soul inedible to demons, I might spare him his fate. Consider it a gesture on my part to save all that remains of my friend and his wife."

He looked at Jase and he smiled. "Now, _him_ I found on the brink of death, in a little chapel in London. As I told you, he'd been attacked by angels, and the holy fire was killing him. I had two choices before me: let him die or try to save him through experimental measures. No doctor could have done it, had I even been able to get him to one in time. I admit freely that I didn't initially do it out of compassion. I did it because I wanted to see if it was possible. Lucky for me it was, because I gained so much more than a crowning achievement from it." He reached over the tray and squeezed Jase's hand.

Undertaker sobered after a moment, lowering his gaze thoughtfully. "I didn't finally come to understand the gravity of my actions until Jase himself told me that he could sense something in the other dolls that I could not detect myself. They aren't the people they once were, of course...all of my dolls except for Jase were quite dead when I altered them, their souls having left their bodies and leaving only fragments of who they were behind. Still, they were in a state of torment that I was ignorant of. They attack people because they are trying to be whole...trying to obtain a soul. I knew as much before, but it didn't occur to me that they were actually suffering. I thought it was merely instinctive and when I learned the truth, I stopped making them."

Jase scooted around to sit closer to his lover, holding his hand tight.

"So you regret what you have done…that's good. we can use that." Alan nodded, jotting down some notes, "I'll save the questions about Jase to the doctor, though. If you agree to the examination?"

Jase hesitated, but finally nodded, "If Chronus is there with me. There may be questions only he can answer. I'm still learning about myself."

Eric glanced at his mate, sensing that he was finished with his questions, for now. "We'll leave you to your meal. Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen."

He got out of his chair and he waited for his spouse, before going out the door and locking it behind him. When they were gone, Undertaker sighed. The food, while tasty enough, wasn't sitting well in his stomach. The stress of worrying over what his day at court would bring for both of them robbed him of the pleasure of his dinner. Still, he smiled at Jase, trying to be cheerful despite their circumstances.

"How is your steak, love?

Jase looked up, feeling just how nervous his husband was. He cradled his cheeks and pressed a kiss to his lips, "It'll be okay…they'll help us get home."

The reaper hoped with all his heart that Jase was right. He nodded and forced himself to eat another bite of food, barely tasting the spiced green beans as he washed them down with water. "I think they'd like to."

He tried to stop thinking about the horrible mental image of his love being killed before his eyes, not wanting to distress Jase further with his own anxiety.

* * *

 

Ronald hummed contently as he rolled over, snuggling into a source of warmth that just smelled so good, like an expensive cologne he knew he'd never be able to afford. It was nice.

In an exhausted stupor, William absently put a hand on the younger reaper's hip. Ronald's hair tickled his chin pleasantly as the blond snuggled up to him, and the feel of his lips pressing against his collarbone was quite nice. William frowned, still mostly asleep. Why was his collarbone exposed? He didn't remember removing his tie or unbuttoning his shirt.

Convinced he was merely dreaming, the supervisor brushed it off, secretly enjoying the contact that he knew he should never have with Ronald in the waking world. He was his boss, after all.

A loud knock sounded at the door, "Mister Spears, sir? Are you in?" a young secretary working for the courts shuffled a load of papers as she stood outside the door. It was morning, and she was unsure if the man was in yet.

William blinked his eyes open at the disturbance. He was disoriented, and the first thing he did was lift his hand off of Ronald's hip to look at his watch. Seeing the time, he sat straight up with a low gasp of shock. It was then that he realized he'd apparently spent the night with his underling snuggled up to him on his couch. He felt around for his tie and he found it wedged between the cushions. He didn't know if he took it off in his sleep, or if Ron did it.

"Knox," he said hoarsely. He cleared his throat and nudged his companion. "Ronald Knox, get up. It's morning and we were meant to be clocked in nearly half an hour ago."

He didn't wait for his response, rather, he put his tie back on and buttoned the top of his shirt, still puzzling over how it got that way. He slid off the couch and patted his dark hair into place, before going to the door and opening it just wide enough to take the paperwork from the secretary.

"Thank you, Miss." He couldn't recall her name, so he left it at that. "I shall look this over and correspond as necessary."

She nodded and smiled at him, holding back a giggle at how untidy his hair seemed to be. The poor overworked man must have fallen asleep at his desk. She turned and walked away, waving her hand as she did so.

Across the room, Ronald slowly sat up, his hair a wild mess, standing on end every which way, and his shirt ruffled, Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he looked around, frowning, "…Why am I in your office, Senpai?"

William cast a scathing glance his way as he brought the paperwork to his desk and sat down to review it. "Because you took it upon yourself to invade my office last night and take up residency on my couch, like a squatter."

"Eh? I'm sorry, Senpai! Please don't give me extra overtime!"

William sighed. So Ronald didn't remember his little invitation the night before. "Honestly."

He nodded at the private bathroom adjoining his office. "Get yourself cleaned up and clocked in, while I review this paperwork. We don't come to work with a slovenly appearance, regardless of the circumstances. You may go and see how Sutcliff fairs after cleaning up, and then you are to begin your duties for the day."

The youth hung his head, grabbing his suit jacket and stumbling with a rather elegant lack of grace to the bathroom to get ready for the day, pausing at the door, "…You smell nice…" he said before disappearing.

William stood blinking dumbly. Just where in heavens did _that_ come from? He sighed again, shaking his head and smiling ever so slightly. Sometimes that boy...

He thought back on when he fished him and Grell out of the ocean, after the Campania went down. He'd never forget the sick feeling he'd felt when he found them floating motionlessly like that, nor could he forget the uncommon relief he experienced when they came too-particularly Ronald. Like it or not, he'd grown attached to the little slacker.

Trying to ignore the sound of the water running and the mental image of Ronald naked and wet, William forced his attention back to the paperwork. They wanted the trial to commence as quickly as possible. Alan's report was amongst the document, stating that the prisoners were willing to cooperate under specified conditions and that he should have their defense ready once the medical staff examined the doll.

* * *

To be continued...


	27. Chapter 27

Jase sat on an examination table that had been set up outside Chronus' holding cell where the imprisoned reaper could have full view through the bars. It was the best they could manage, but at least Chronus was able to be there for the examination. Guards were posted outside the door still, but the only people inside were Chronus, Jase, doctor Skies, Eric, and Alan.

"Mr. Dubois, I would like to do some standard checkup procedures," explained the doctor. "This involves checking your pulse, testing your reflexes and temperature, and listening to your lungs. Will that be all right?"

The doll nodded, "My normal temperature is high, though." He said.

She smiled. "So I've noticed. Mr. Undertaker, may I ask you some questions for Mr. Humphries to take notes, while I examine your spouse?"

Chronus nodded, charmed by the young woman's gentle, polite demeanor. "Go right ahead, darlin'. I'll share what I can with you, provided I don't think it's too personal or detrimental to Jase's well-being."

She nodded and retrieved a rubber hammer from the instrument tray to begin testing the doll's reflexes. She gently tapped each knee for a response as she spoke.

"We know that the other dolls cannibalize humans in order to try and replace their missing souls. Since Mr. Dubois still has his, what provokes his attacks, when he feels the urge to do so?"

"Sin," answered the ancient. "Evil people trigger him when they get too close, which is why I employed a subconscious command early on. It stops him from acting on his baser urges, but it leaves him in a trance state with no memory of those moments, when it does. I've concluded that the holy fire in him is to blame for that. It lets him sense corruption and if it's strong enough, he can't help but seek to destroy it."

"I see," she said. "Lean forward please, Mr. Dubois. I'll listen to your lungs, now. Mr. Humphries, are there any specific questions you need answered for your case?"

"Has he shown any other inhuman abilities? You say the Holy flame is still burning in him… It's very similar to actual angelic beings with how the holy light is at the core of their souls, and they use it to project out their weapons and flames…is he, for example, able to use these flames in any such way, or does it simply serve as his own personal oven trying to cook him alive if he's not kept cool enough? Basically. Are the flames a danger to just himself, or to others as well?"

He could set flammables on fire if they get too close, but by the time it's bad enough for that to happen, it's quite obvious he shouldn't be handled...except by me. He can't burn things at will."

Chronus chose not to mention the healing ability, such as it were. He hoped his husband would keep it to himself too, lest they try to exploit it to their own gains. Withholding the information wasn't the same as lying, by his reckoning, and it wasn't relevant to the question.

Alan nodded, making notes of it, "Seems that while he stays with you, obviously, out of his own will and love for you…he is also very dependant of you…Do you think that he would survive long without you? Personal relations aside, that is."

Understanding that this wasn't simply a hypothetical, Undertaker looked at his husband. "Jase is very strong and capable. He would most likely have to live in isolation on his own, but he could survive without harming anyone."

Eric frowned with sympathy, his gaze flicking to his youthful mate. "I think I can speak for both of us when I say we'll do our best to see that he doesn't have to, Death...I mean Under...uh...I mean Chronus."

The ancient reaper burst into laughter. "Just pick a name and stick with it, chap. I suppose I don't mind what either of you choose to call me. 'Chronus' is the name my Jase chose for me, and that's who I am too he and myself, now."

Eric nodded, a little embarrassed. "Thank you."

Dr. Skies finished performing the physical, and she looked at Jase's blindfold pensively. "I would normally check pupillary response to light, but I understand your eyes are quite sensitive to it. I think we can skip that part. You obviously have no visual problems, other than the light sensitivity."

Jase nodded, "Thank you for skipping that part. Light burns them quite painfully."

Alan frowned, "I hate to ask this…because I know the answer, but the courts may ask the same thing and you should be prepared to hear it. After all, reapers who have not taken the vow, do not fully understand what it means." He took a deep breath, "We simply need your word of this on record. Do you think that Mister Dubois only took the vow with you because it would please you and he wouldn't ever be left alone in isolation?"

"No! I-I'd never!" The Frenchman gasped.

"I know. But some members of the court may think that you simply fear being alone. They will attack every angle of the case if given the chance. Proving that your feelings are genuine may be a necessity of the case. In a way, you will also be on trial, Jase." Alan said.

Undertaker shook his head. "I would have sensed it the moment the bond was complete. Jase's commitment to me is as genuine as mine is to him. Any doubts I might have had about that were laid to rest as soon as we completed our pledge and the bond took place."

Alan nodded, making his notes. "Jase…similar question. Do you think that your Chronus could have made the vow simply to keep you with him and under his control?"

Jase shook his head vigorously, "If he wanted to control me, I'm sure he had ways of taking my free will away…making me more like the others. He loves me."

Dr. Skies excused herself after putting away all of her instruments, satisfied that she had the basic information she needed. "That will be all for today, Mr. Dubois. Thank you for your cooperation."

While Jase nodded at her, Undertaker looked at Alan questioningly. "Any further questions, lad?"

Alan shook his head, "Anything you wish to add? I believe once I file these reports your trial will be set. This is your last chance to get anything on record before you take the stand."

The ancient considered the question. "Just a reminder that Jase was once a man of the cloth, before all this happened. He'd taken vows dedicating his life to helping others. The court might not give a damn about that, but it bears repeating."

"A man of the church?" Eric looked at Jase who nodded, "Damn, How'd you manage to do that? 'e must be harder t' get in bed than Al is!"

"Eric!" Alan smacked his lover's gut lightly with his folder, blushing.

Jase's face was bright red, "The world is very different than what the church and humankind thinks and says. Once I learned that and got used to it, it wasn't hard to listen to my heart. –And what we do in bed is none of your business! Nor is it ours to know what you two do!"

Undertaker exploded into laughter before he could help it. "My, my," he wheezed when he could speak again. "Jase darling, could you perchance be related to Mr. Humphries? As narrow as the odds are, I can't help but wonder if you shared a bloodline, before he became a reaper!"

The silver reaper sat down on the cot and slapped his knee with mirth, thoroughly enjoying the glare Eric was getting, the cringing look on his face and the scolding that Jase gave to him.

Jase blinked and looked back at his lover behind the bars, "…Possible, maybe…I don't know much of my Mother. Not even her maiden name. But I know my father once mentioned she was English."

"My family was quite large when I was alive, and I know some planned to move to France. So it is possible, though less likely. Many people were moving around back then." Alan shrugged, still glaring slightly at his lover. "If he is, then it's a rather distant relation."

Undertaker snickered even harder. "I was kidding, dear boy. May I please have my darling husband back, now?"

He made grabby hands in Jase's direction through the bars, now in a somewhat playful mood.

Jase blinked at his husband, "…The holding cell isn't private, Chronus…" He knew Undertaker was simply in a playful mood, but sometimes that lead to them finding themselves naked and breathing hard as they made love.

Alan unlocked the cell door and held it open for Jase to walk back in before closing and locking it once more.

The ancient grinned down at him as he put his arms around him, waggling his eyebrows. "Doesn't mean I can't hold you, darlin'."

Eric covered his lips on a chuckle. "We'll give you a bit of privacy, now that Alan has the information he needs." He looked at his spouse and he cringed a little. "Looks like I might be sleeping alone tonight, myself."

"If an impulsive mouth was reason enough to withhold affection, I think I might be sleeping alone  _myself_  every night. I'm sure your husband is used to it by now, Mr. Slingby."

"He also holds grudges," muttered the blond under his breath as Alan joined him at the door. "Good night, sir. Goodnight, Mr. Dubois."

Jase and Undertaker bid the other couple goodnight, and the Frenchman looked up at his lover, "…Do you think the courts will listen? I'd hate to lose you…"

The question had a sobering effect on Undertaker, making his playful mood evaporate like water in a boiling tea kettle. "I think with young Humphries and the doctor on our side, the chances are better than average."

Knowing that the room was probably wired for sound as well as set up with video security feeds, Undertaker held Jase closer and leaned over to kiss him on the left ear, subtly whispering into it as he did so. "Say nothing of your healing abilities, my love. Not to anyone. I'd rather caution you on something you've already concluded yourself, than risk it getting inadvertently revealed in an emotional moment on the witness stand."

Jase nodded, taking his lover's hand, "I'm sorry I killed your mood…" he sat down on the cot, rubbing his arm where the nurse had taken a small blood sample, "This is just a rather serious situation…it's hard to be light-hearted and playful with you knowing what could happen…"

Chronus nodded in understanding and sat down with him, putting an arm around him. "I know, dearest. I wish my gift of foresight could predict our future, rather than mortal death. Even  _that's_  been dodgy lately; probably due to the chaos in our lives. Whatever happens, know that I love you more than anything else in existence."

He cupped Jase's chin and tilted his head back for a soft, loving kiss on the mouth.

The Frenchman pulled himself up into the kiss. Whatever happened…he had no plans to be separated from his husband.

* * *

To be continued...


	28. Chapter 28

William slept in his office again; this time without a cute young blond cuddling up to him. He felt oddly lonely when he woke up the next morning without Ronald, and he wondered how the little pest's absence could bother him this much after just one night of sharing the folding couch with him. Blaming it on stress from being overworked, the dispatch supervisor stretched and got up to adjust his couch, shower and change into the fresh uniform he'd hung in the bathroom. He  _still_  hadn't located his missing migraine pills, and he sighed as he styled his dark hair and felt the warning throb of another headache coming on. He'd just have to manage without them, until he could get to the medical department to purchase more.

It came as no great surprise to him to find the object of some of his frustration lounging on his couch again, with his fingers laced casually behind his head and his ankles crossed. "Honestly, Knox. I think I'm going to have to send you to the doctor to check for a deficiency. You laze about and sleep more than any reaper I've ever known. How did you get in here, by the way?"

He could have sworn he'd had his office door locked.

"Through the door. How else?" Ronald stated with a smirk, "And I'm not sleeping, I'm waiting for you. The trial has been set for this late afternoon, I was told to let you know but you were in the shower… I didn't know you sing—well, hum, really. Good mood?" he pushed himself up and pulled out a letter from his jacket pocket, "Here's the trial summons so that it's official and all that."

William took the letter from him, examining it with a frown. He chose to ignore his comment on his singing, having no excuse to make for that. "I knew they wanted to push for an early trial, but I rather expected it to take longer than this." He smirked subtly at Ronald. "You could learn something from Alan Humphries' efficiency, Ronald."

Ron rolled his eyes, "I'd rather simply do my work and have time to go out for a few drinks or something. He and I are two completely different people. Besides, if I'm learning anything, I'd rather it be from you."

William's annoyance over the boys reference to partying was tempered with quiet flattery. He avoided staring at him, telling himself he didn't find him so blasted appealing to look at. His eyes scanned over the paper in his hand once more. "We'll be present for the trial as witnesses, to give our accounts of our encounters with Legendary Death since he went rogue."

He nudged his glasses with his scythe, before putting the letter on his desk and turning back around to face Ronald. "I would appreciate it if you would show up on time and prepared to give your statement, Knox. Don't disappoint me."

"I already know what I plan to say. It just depends on what I'm able to say as to if I stick to it the way I want to. And when am I ever late?" he smirked, "Ignoring the time I was late because I was sleeping in your office."

The brunet sighed. "I've counted three times this month alone in which you clocked in late, Ronald." He rubbed his pounding forehead, shutting his eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the medical department for some aspirin."

"…I really annoy you…don't I?" The blond frowned, looking down at his white oxfords.

The desolate tone in his voice gave William pause. "Nearly everyone alive annoys me in some way, Ronald. You know that. I just have a splitting headache, and I need to make it go away before the trial, if I'm going to give my best account of the events I witnessed before Undertaker's capture."

The tension in his back and shoulders certainly wasn't helping. Grell was always telling him that he was wound up too tight and maybe that was true, but if he didn't keep things in order around here, nobody else was likely to.

"But I try really hard to please you! I…I know I make mistakes, but…I still look up to you…" Ronald insisted.

William tilted his head, and that action alone made him wince. What he wouldn't give for the time to take a long, hot soak in the tub and book a massage at the wellness center down the block from headquarters.

"I suppose I spend so much time criticizing your failings that I forget to extol your virtues," he murmured, approaching the boy. He reminded William of a kicked puppy, the way he was staring at his shoes. The supervisor cupped Ronald's chin and made him look up at him. "You are a good agent, Knox. While your punctuality is questionable and your party boy mentality baffles me sometimes, you are a fast worker and a very skilled fighter. In addition..."

He cleared his throat, struggling for words. "Sometimes I find you...amusing. You...keep work entertaining...unlike Sutcliff, who just makes it more tedious for me."

He hadn't realized that he had begun to lower his mouth to Ronald's as he spoke, until their lips were only inches apart. "Sometimes," he murmured, "I even enjoy your company."

The boy's eyes widened. No way…no way this could be happening…could it? But it was. He could feel the man's breath teasing his lips. Yes, his feelings for his boss did go beyond simply admiration. But he'd never told anyone about it. Not even Eric (his best friend and favorite drinking buddy) or Grell (his mentor who he was often partnered up with on assignments). And yet…it was like his dream was coming true…or he fell asleep at his desk and this was a dream. Either way…

The blond popped up onto the balls of his feet to close that distance, pressing their lips together.

Sweet Mother Rhea, they sure felt real…

William's brain didn't immediately comprehend what had happened, when the shorter reaper's lips touched his. His body, on the other hand, seemed to understand it perfectly, and it responded in time before he could so much as scold it for being inappropriate. His free arm went around Ronald's waist, while the hand that had been cupping his chin caressed his jaw and cheek. He traced the boy's lips with the tip of his tongue, tilting his head. When they parted for him, he tossed rational thought out the window in favor of satisfying his burning curiosity.

It was happening…it was  _really_  happening! William T. Spears was actually  _snogging_  him! Ronald had almost expected the man to yank himself away, ranting about proper office behavior and assigning him overtime for being a distraction—or something. But no. The man was letting it happen! Butterflies fluttered in the youth's stomach and he slid his arms up around the man, moaning into the kiss.

Ah, Styx, let this moment never end…

Something broke in William, when he heard that moan. He lifted Ronald against him and half-dragged him over to his desk, dropping him on top of it. Pencils and pens scattered as he knocked the holder over—a thing which should have bothered him immensely, but he hardly noticed it now. Some of them rolled off onto the floor, to land beside stationary that also managed to get displaced. His kiss became searing and he cupped the boy's ass to pull him to the edge of the desk, pressing his hips between his thighs. He heard someone groan and he realized with a little shock that the sound came from his own throat.

_'What are you doing, Spears? This is your underling...you helped mentor the boy, for death's sake.'_

All the propriety and common sense in the world couldn't help him against the tide of desire washing over him, though. Hadn't he played by the rules enough? Hadn't he sacrificed enough for this organization, spent enough late nights in the office, avoided intimate contact while other reapers went out on dates or took vacation days? This one little encounter made up for all that, and he couldn't bring himself to stop, even though he knew it was wrong and it could cost him his job.

A dream. It had to be a dream…a sweet, hot, passionate one. William would never destroy his organized desk in such a way! But Ronald wasn't about to stop it. Oh no. This…he wanted it. He wanted it so badly it hurt—literally. His pants restraining his member were suddenly way too tight, and with William pressing against him like he was… "Will…iam…." He moaned, wrapping his legs around the older reaper's waist.

Well, his headache no longer troubled him. If anything, it seemed to have retreated, for now...or else he was too blasted randy to even notice it any longer. The feel of Ronald's legs hugging him around the waist and the sweet, desperate way he'd spoken his name only served to spur the supervisor's inappropriate lust on further. William urged him to tilt his head back, and he started kissing his throat. Still wondering in the back of his mind what his body thought it was doing, William let go of the blond's bottom and he burrowed his hand between the press of their bodies, cupping Ronald between the legs. He felt a tiny spot of dampness on the boy's trousers, just above the swell of his groin. He rubbed his palm against the bulge, stimulating it further.

William was quickly rewarded with a lustful moan against his lips and Ronald rolled his hips upwards, grinding against his hand. He'd lost himself as soon as their lips touched. Work? What work? There was only William. Though this did seem to be going way too fast…they hadn't even had a single date yet, and—screw it. He'd never been with a man before, and if he was going to, he wanted it to be William.

A knock on the door startled William out of his haze of need, and he nearly shoved Ronald away from him and off the desk on impulse. Remembering that his door was locked—or should be, he restrained that impulse and stepped away from the boy, breathing heavily.

"What...ahem...what is it?" called William, smoothing his voice out as much as he could. He flushed at the uneven, husky quality of it, and he had no intention of opening that door to face whoever was on the other side.

"I have the reports that you asked for, sir," came the secretary's voice. "Mr. Sutcliff said that his would be late."

William sighed, irritation returning at the mention of Grell and the reminder of his incompetence. His headache was returning. "Slip it under the door, would you? I'm very busy."

He looked at Ronald again, swallowing hard. Whatever had possessed him to maul the boy, that way? His thoughts whilst doing so were scattered and hard to recollect, but he did remember making excuses for himself all the while.

Panting, Ron propped himself up on the desk, his face pink, and his lips kiss-swollen. Saying nothing until he was sure the secretary had left. "…William..?"

William took in the sight of him, thinking he looked very...fuckable. The crude thought startled him. It certainly wasn't the sort of thing he would usually think to himself. Perhaps he was developing a personality disorder of some kind, under the stress. He looked away, struggling with desire and uncertainty. The way Ronald said his name just now made him want to jump him all over again.

"I...should not have done that," said William at last. True, Ronald had been the one to initiate the kiss, but William was responsible for tossing him onto the desk and practically assaulting him in response. "I'm overworked, and I forgot my sense of propriety, when you kissed me."

"Ah? N-no, Senpai! I didn't…I mean…when you…" Ronald couldn't choose what to say, so many thoughts were jumbled in his mind, "…Would you go out with me?" he finally managed to ask, glad his tongue had chosen that one and not 'will you fuck me?'.

"Go out with you?" Repeated William softly. "As in dating?"

The blond nodded, "I…I have fancied you for a long time…but I was always too insecure to say anything! Especially after Grell-senpai said you had no interest in that kind of stuff…but…after what just happened…"

It was on the tip of William's tongue to say that just because he wasn't interested in dating  _Sutcliff_  didn't mean he wasn't interested in dating anyone at all. It was Grell, though; the reaper that seemed to operate under the delusion that any man that did not want him must be deranged. The bothersome redhead could not accept 'no' for an answer.

"It's frowned upon for management to fraternize with underlings that way, Ronald."

When the boy's face fell, William added a soft amendment. "So we will have to keep it to ourselves in the workplace. What we do off the clock is our own business, of course."

"Really?" The younger's face lit up, "For real?" he grinned, hopping off the desk and walking over to William, reaching out to straighten Will's suit. He was on the clock, after all. "So…tonight, after the trial…after we clock out, maybe we could get dinner?"

"Six o'clock sharp," agreed William, almost smiling at Ron's enthusiasm. "Meet me in the lobby."

He hadn't been on a date for so long, though. He felt butterflies trying to manifest in his stomach. To combat this, he forced a burst of confidence he didn't feel, and he allowed himself one last, inappropriate pleasure. He cupped Ronald's face in his hands and he lowered his mouth to his, pausing to speak softly.

"Don't be late." With that said, he gave him a soft, brief kiss on the lips, and then he stepped away and shooed him. "Now, go and prepare for the trial, whilst I do the same."

"Six." Ron nodded, pecking his cheek and rushing to the door, pausing and looking down at the rather prominent bulge still in his slacks. "Uh…"

William snorted and looked away. "Bathroom," he ordered curtly, fighting a rare urge to laugh. "See to it however you choose, Knox." He made a vague, graceful gesture towards his personal bathroom.

Ron nodded, "Thanks." He hurried to the bathroom, closing the door to tend to his problem in private.

William shook his head at his antics, and he sat down at his desk to get to work.

* * *

To be continued...


	29. Chapter 29

The courts were abuzz with activity. The realm rarely ever had such a large and famous trial, and nearly every reaper not on duty wanted to witness it. The balcony was full, even more-so than when Grell was on trial for his Jack the Ripper crimes.

The doors opened, and Undertaker entered, flanked by four guards as he was escorted to the center stand. Alan following close behind.

Chronus smiled brightly at the audience, reaching up with chained hands to tip the top-hat that Alan had somehow convinced the courts to allow him to keep. He took his seat on the bench next to his attorney and Eric, listening to the whispers of speculation and intrigue as they awaited the first witness to come to the stand. Alan explained to him that Jase would be giving his account to the court last, and the reason behind that was because the prosecutors would be worn out by the time they got to the doll's testimony-which might spare Jase some brutal questioning. In addition, the jury would also be tired and Jase's final testimony might tug on their heart strings a bit more.

Finding the theory sound enough, Undertaker relaxed as much as he could with his wrists and ankles shackled. He was almost enjoying the attention...until prosecution called Grell Sutcliff to the stand as their first witness.

"Well, this ought to be rich," muttered the ancient to his companions.

Eric gave his spouse a grimace. "I don't think Grell's very likely to give an impartial testimony, do you?"

Alan shook his head, "He holds grudges…and Death has given him good reason to hold one."

Grell flitted to the stand, wearing a tight red cocktail dress and flashing the bailiff a flirtatious smile as he was sworn in.

In the isle across from Undertaker, William stared at the spectacle Grell made of himself and he face-palmed. Beside him sat Ronald-who tried to look surprised, but then just shrugged.

"Oh, honestly," muttered William under his breath. "Ronald...did you know about this?"

Ron glanced at his boss—and boyfriend, "Know about what? His testifying or his outfit? He shrugged, "I didn't know about either, but I'm not surprised."

"Styx help us," murmured William as Grell blew a kiss to the jury. "Well, I suppose he can't really hurt Death's case with his testimony, dressing and acting like that."

Still, it reflected badly on his division and William found himself sinking down subtly in the bench as people chuckled and whispered about the outrageous redhead. Despite his unethical approaches, Grell was fairly well-liked by the younger generation. It could come to a laugh-out between him and Undertaker to gain the warmth of the crowd.

"Mr. Sutcliff," began the attorney of opposing counsel, pacing before the witness stand in a sharp pinstriped suit. He had his blonde hair gathered into a ponytail. "What say you to the court concerning the defendant's personality and actions, up to this point?"

"First off, it's 'Miss', if you don't mind. And second, don't you think that question's too broad, darling?" he twirled his hair around a finger, "His personality changes, after all~ and his actions…well, there was this time he insulted me and I shoved him in a jar of salt—he seemed to like that~" he giggled.

Ronald smacked his palm to his forehead, "This is painful."

Undertaker listened with a smirk, and he leaned closer to Alan. "I did rather enjoy that," he admitted softly.

Before the stand, the prosecutor seemed at a loss of words. He gathered his thoughts again quickly. "I...see. Well then, Mister...I mean Miss Sutcliff...what can you tell us about Death's actions aboard the Campania and afterwards?"

"Now that's more like it~" Grell stopped playing with his hair, "He was horribly sexy, gave me a fight to remember! But it was revealed that he'd been bringing back the dead and he set them loose on the ship, killing countless humans who would have otherwise survived the trip. Though the ship was destined to sink regardless."

"And is it your testimony that the reaper in question exacerbated those circumstances, beyond a doubt?" queried the prosecution attorney.

"Yes." He said simply, "There is no way to deny it. And it seems he had done so simply because he could. Because he was bored. Quite disgusting, really. I've done my fair share of horrible things, but even I'd never go so far as to bring back the dead!"

"Pfft, at least  _my_  victims were already dead," blurted Undertaker. "Can't say the same about yours, can you dear?"

"Order!" demanded the Judge as people began to laugh at both Grell and Undertaker's comments. "Mr. Sutcliff, you aren't here to compare your transgressions against the defendant, and you are already treading thin ice over very deep water. You will answer the questions truthfully and without drama. This is a trial, not a stage for you to act out. Mr. Undertaker, you will remain silent until taking the stand yourself. Don't make me warn either of you twice."

Undertaker made as if to zip his lips, and the prosecution resumed questioning Grell. "What do you mean, he was bored? Can you elaborate on that for the jury, please?"

"Oh, I wouldn't know exactly, darling, but if I had to guess, the man's been around too long without anything to keep him occupied since retirement. He's turned into quite the madman…mad scientist, even. The poor bastard desperately needs something to keep him in line!"

The attorney nodded. "So it would seem. Please share with the court your experiences with him after the Campania. He had an operation going in Germany, isn't that so?"

"Well, so I hear. I wasn't part of the whole Germany thing. I believe that Unnie's representative Alan Humphries was the one who had that little run in with the man. However, I was there when we finally caught the man back here in London. Violent little git! Do you realize how much makeup I have to use covering the injuries he gave me?" he huffed, "Flat-out killed our human informant, too."

"And how did he kill this mortal?" queried the attorney.

In his seat, Undertaker grimaced. "This doesn't bode well," he whispered to his companions.

"No, but you had a better excuse than Grell when he helped his mistress kill those harlots," Eric whispered back, "and he only suffered probation for that."

Undertaker nodded, hoping that Grell's outfit and demeanor might put a mark against his testimony. The death of the informant was one thing he wished he could take back.

"Threw a stick through him from the looks of it. It had happened right before our group portaled in and surrounded him, so I know not how it happened. But it's safe to say that it was, in fact, Unnie who did so, and not the human Viscount he'd been working with. The human would not have the strength to kill a man in such a way without getting a speck of blood on his white clothes."

"A stick?" Queried the attorney with a raised brow.

"Grave marker," corrected Undertaker from his bench. "It was a sotoba."

"You'll have your turn on the stand, old man," admonished the attorney coldly.

In his seat next to Ronald, William shook his head and narrowed his eyes with distaste at the prosecutor. "Disrespectful," he muttered to his companion. "Addressing the very first of our kind in such a crude way. I should..." He didn't quite know what he could or should do; all he knew was that it left a foul taste in his mouth.

Ronald sighed and patted William's hand, subtly comforting him.

"Either way, it looked like a stick…or a post. Doesn't matter what it's called, its what he did with it that matters." Grell shrugged dismissively.

"I see," said the attorney. "No further questions for this witness, your Honor. We yield the floor to the defense."

Alan sighed and stood up, frowning at Grell. He'd already hurt Undertaker's case, and he had to wonder if it was out of spite. "Miss Sutcliff," he started, not wanting to force the court to hear Grell's complaints about pronouns a second time, "Is it or is it not true that when my client attacked you, it was because you were taunting him and making threats towards a person he cares deeply for?"

Grell blinked, the smile falling from his face.

"Well?" Alan asked again when no answer came.

"…Yes, I said some things I shouldn't have, but—"

"So Legendary Death was provoked into action after we, the party charged with bringing him in, had subdued him to a state when we could have brought him in without further harm to ourselves or him?"

"Well, yes…"

"Thank you. That will be all, Miss Sutcliff. No further questions."

"Brief and to the point," murmured William with approval. He returned the subtle pressure of Ronald's hand. "This could be salvaged, after all." He made a mental note to put Alan up for promotion as Grell was called from the stand.

"Prosecution calls William T. Spears to the stand, your honor."

William nodded and stood up, walking with dignity to take Grell's place. He shot an annoyed look at the outrageous redhead in passing, and he got a kiss blown in his direction for his troubles.

He took the stand and he gazed at the prosecuting attorney levelly as he approached. "Mr. Spears, you were not present for the Campania events, were you?"

William gave a nod. "I was not. I arrived on the scene to collect Mr. Sutcliff and Mr. Knox from the ocean."

"But you were there for the capture, were you not?"

William nodded. "I was the one supervising the capture."

"Is it true that Legendary Death brutally murdered a helpless mortal when you arrived?"

William adjusted his glasses before answering. "No, it is not."

The judge banged his gavel for order as Grell called out in shock and people murmured with interest.

"The mortal in question was neither helpless, nor murdered," explained the supervisor. "He was a killer himself, and a shifty informant. I believe that the defendant reacted out of a desire to protect another, when he put an end to him. I'm also quite sure that human rules of life and death do not apply in this court. After all, we have amongst us here an individual who enjoyed carving up whores for personal delight. Let's keep human morals out of this, shall we?"

Grell grumbled, "He never stood up for me in my day at court…" he said to himself, clearly jealous. Though only a few reapers around him heard it.

The attorney went on. "But the old man-"

"You will address him with respect," said William coldly, "or I'll answer no further questions. Regardless of his crimes, he served before any of us here today. I will not tolerate your disdainful tone, sir."

The attorney blinked and looked at the judge, who waved a hand. "Proceed, and speak of the defendant with respect, council."

The attorney bowed. "As you wish. Mr. Spears, it is the testimony of Grell Sutcliff that the defendant created his monstrosities out of boredom, and one such creature is sentient. What is your take on this?"

William glanced at Undertaker before answering. "I believe his motivations involved more than simple boredom, and it is the defendant's testimony that he acted to save a life, when he altered the witness known as Jase Dubois. Mr. Sutcliff has a way of simplifying situations to suit his needs."

"No further questions, your honor," said the attorney, again yielding the floor to Alan.

The brunet stood up, "Mister Spears. How would you describe Legendary Death's behavior during and while being taken into custody before Mister Sutcliff—"

"Miss!"

"—had provoked him to make his personal attack on Mister Sutcliff's person?"

"He was willing to cooperate," explained William, "In exchange for leniency for his companion. Sutcliff made a threat against the young man in question then, and Death reacted with violence. It is my understanding that the two of them took the Pledge together, shortly before the capture. Pledged reapers naturally put the safety of their spouses above all else...so I'm told."

Alan nodded, "We do. For the record, I myself have taken the pledge, and I can testify that it is undeniably true." He said, adding validation to the statement as he looked to the judge. Nearly smiling as he spotted the stunned look on Eric's face for the unexpected—and very public declaration. Very few people knew that they had taken the vows together, after all. Alan was a very private person.

The brunet then proceeded to question William about the reaper's past, as William was one of the few who knew great detail about the legend's achievements. It was kept textbook, leaving no room for it to be denied or questioned. He then dismissed William and returned to his seat.

Next Ronald was called to the stand, and the blond, hoping to keep himself calm, slowly walked to the stand.

"Mr. Knox, did the defendant brutally attack an officer of this administration, or did he not?" Demanded the prosecuting attorney once Ronald took his vow of truth.

"Are you still going on about what he did to Grell?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow at the man, "You've already gotten two accounts of that incident and don't you think that should be enough apart from Death's own testimony? I honestly don't think I could add to what Mister Spears has said about it. Seems to me you should move on with the rest of your case. This is, after all, a trial about his Bizarre Dolls, not a domestic dispute with my senior." He smirked, "Or is that your whole case? You should have prepared yourself better for court, sir."

The attorney flushed as the witnesses laughed. "It is necessary to get the accounts if all persons present for the conflict."

He took a sip from the glass of water sitting on the nearby table before continuing. "You were involved in the Campania event. Give us a summary of your account of it, please."

"Of course. The ship was destined to sink, of course, and many lives were set to end. So, Grell and I were assigned to the collections together. During the chaos of the ship's final destination, I was working on collecting the souls from my half of the list, being forced to take a slight break to fight off a demon who also happened to be aboard, as well as the Bizarre Dolls walking around causing more humans to die. Soon after, Grell and I came upon Death—though I hadn't known who he was at the time. And he revealed his plot to us. That he was responsible for the Dolls, and gave us a clue as to how he did it—by altering the ends of the cinematic records, from my understanding. I admit that it's unforgivable, what he did. And Grell and I made our move to take him into custody ourselves… However, the demon I mentioned before gained orders from his master to take out Death. And he became this a problem for us, getting in our way. We were forced to keep half our attention on the demon and that limited us. I'm not saying that had the demon not been there that we would have caught Death. After all, I'm still a junior reaper, and Grell had just gotten off of his suspension from fieldwork. But it stands to chance that we may have had a better opportunity to capture him. However, he did escape." He looked over at William a second, "Mister Spears then arrived and we finished collecting the souls of the dead. The Bizarre Dolls all being destroyed. We had hoped that that would be the end of it."

The attorney seemed satisfied. "So the defendant refused to come in for justice. Thank you, Mr. Knox. No further questions."

Alan got to his feet again. Ronald was a truthful boy, and he had gone into detail that would possibly help. "Mister Knox, You said that it was yours and Mister Sutcliff's—"

"Why won't you ever call me 'Miss', Alan?!"

"Mister Sutcliff. Do not interrupt this court again or I shall have you removed." The judge stated and Grell plopped back in his seat, a sour look on his face. "Proceed, Mister Humphries."

"Thank you, your honor." Alan turned back to the blond, "You stated that the two of you chose to attempt to bring Death in during the assignment?"

"Yes." Ron nodded.

"So it was not an official order to bring him in?"

"No."

"And this was before your supervisor—William Spears—arrived onto the scene?"

"Yes."

Alan smiled at the boy and turned to face the jury, "Without official orders for his arrest, Mister Knox and Mister Sutcliff's attempts to bring Legendary Death into our realm again had been no more than a request. My client at the time had full rights to deny the request until an official order was given. Which would not have happened until after Knox and Sutcliff had filed their official reports on the collection and incident. Thank you. No further questions."

"Smooth," complimented Undertaker as Alan rejoined him and Eric.

They called Eric up next, and he gave his account of what happened when they brought Undertaker in. He rejoined them after being questioned, being followed by a few other reapers Undertaker didn't care much for. One a German from Germany that had survived.

Finally, the opposing lawyer stood up again, "I call the Bizarre Doll we have in custody to the stand. Jase Dubois."

The room exploded in murmurs of shock, and Undertaker felt a little queasy when Jase's name was called for testimony. He turned in his seat to look as his spouse was escorted through the courtroom doors, and he took some comfort from seeing that they hadn't shackled him in irons. Jase approached the witness stand, wearing his blindfold as usual, and Undertaker wished he could wipe away the fear he sensed from him.

"Strength, love," he whispered beneath his breath. "It's all I need from you."

As if he could hear him, Jase's head turned in his direction and the ancient knew that he was looking at him. Chronus smiled encouragingly as the prosecuting lawyer approached to question him.

"Mr. Dubois, did the defendant turn you into one of his living dead against your will?" he asked once order was restored to the court.

Jase ripped his gaze back from his lover, looking up through his blindfold at the man towering above him. He took a deep breath; "I doubt you could ever claim that it was 'against' my will, sir. I was dying when he found me. How many men on their deathbed have you met that still had a sense of 'free will'? Our lives come to an end. There is no escaping it. I only felt fear and confusion. I hadn't wanted to die yet."

"But as I understand it, he has planted a compulsion to make you to do things, taking away your free will entirely. Using this, he can issue commands to force you to do as told." The lawyer looked around at the audience. "Even attack others at his bidding, if he desires."

Chronus tensed in his seat, disliking the man immensely. He parted his lips but Eric nudged him and shook his head, reminding him that further disruption of the proceedings could land him back in his cell and hurt his case. With difficulty, the ancient calmed down and waited to hear his husband's response to the simplistic summary of his triggers.

"That's not true!" Jase's voice rang out, "All it does is keep me  _unable_  to attack others  _against_  my will. He did it because I expressed how I didn't want to hurt people."

"So then you  _are_  a danger to others," said the lawyer in satisfaction.

" _Objection!_ "

When everyone looked at Undertaker he cleared his throat and looked at Alan. "Right...it's your job to say that. Sorry, chap."

Alan had been half-way up, about to do the same thing, "…Objection. Death. Please leave my job to me from now on." He looked at the judge, "Your honor, he is putting words into the witness' mouth without actual proof of it. He should question further before making official statements."

"Objection sustained," said the judge. "Mr. Undertaker, no more outbursts from you. Allow your attorney to do his job, please."

The ancient nodded and cast a sheepish grin around. "Sorry, it just had to be said."

The prosecuting attorney got back on track. "Mr. Dubois, is it true that you sometimes suffer black outs, when your unnatural urges take hold, and is it also true that you have no memory of them and cannot control them on your own?"

"…Yes." Jase admitted; his throat choking up as he realized he couldn't think of anything to add that would help his husband. He looked over at Chronus, gripping the fabric of his slacks.

"It's all right, love," mouthed Undertaker, aching for him.

The questioning attorney began to pace. "So it could stand to reason that you cannot be trusted to exist on your own, without someone reining you in."

"Oh, you ripe bastard," muttered Chronus under his breath, visualizing himself manifesting his scythe-since they couldn't take it from him due to his deep bond with it-and slicing the fool lawyer's head off his shoulders.

"Easy," cautioned Eric again. "Don't lose it, old man. You're gonna be screwed if you can't stay cool."

Undertaker drew a shaken breath, knowing he was right. He had to muffle his feelings for Jase's sake, if not his own. Attacking the lawyer wasn't the way to ensure their freedom and safety.

"I—Only around humans who've sinned greatly." He insisted, "If they get too close to me. I can stay away from them and everything's safe!"

"But how can you ensure that you stay away from them?" persisted the lawyer. "You require things to survive, even if food is no longer a part of that. How will you purchase clothes, groceries or any other household needs if you cannot shop for these items without coming into contact with humans?"

"I was a priest in my human days…" Jase stated, "I am used to living a simple life. I can make my own simple clothes…" he tilted his head up, "That is, if I choose to. But I do not wish to live without him."

Chronus stared back, and Eric smiled softly when he saw the way other reapers watched the way the couple looked at each other with sympathy. Jase was charmingly innocent, and it was difficult for anyone to ignore his heartfelt words. In addition, seeing Undertaker gaze at him with unabashed love could only help their case.

"Things are starting to look up a little," whispered Eric into his spouse's ear. "Milk that sympathy, sweetheart."

Alan nodded, "Once it's my turn. I fear he isn't finished trying to break Jase's testimony down to hurtful basics…"

But surprisingly, the prosecuting lawyer was indeed finished, and he announced as much before yielding the floor to Alan again. Undertaker watched as his defending attorney approached Jase, and he knew that Alan's line of questioning would be much gentler than the other man's had been. He sighed in relief, glad that his spouse didn't have to endure more verbal and emotional torture.

"Mister Dubois…You fell in love with Death over the time you stayed with him, did you not?"

"I did." Jase blushed.

"Would you mind telling the court just how deep that love has taken you?"

"I…I spent weeks learning the reaper tongue in order to take the vow under the moon with him."

"And was it his idea, or yours?"

Jase blushed harder, "In a way, it was the both of us. I asked him if reapers got married and he told me of the vows. He then asked me if I'd be interested and I agreed.

"So my client is your husband?"

"For better or worse." He nodded with a smile that Alan had to return.

"Could you tell us the changes you witnessed in Death between when you awoke a Doll, and when you fell in love?"

Jase nodded. "At first—he seemed a madman, one I had no choice in trusting. He'd disappear at times, making more Dolls. He was a bit cold under his jokes, and he protected me because I was an investment…but then, he started to change. He grew warmer, more affectionate. I believe it was against his will…he hadn't wanted to see me as anything but his crowning achievement, but he was growing attached. I could tell. I could feel a real friendship form between us, and his trips to make other dolls grew less. He only left when he had to."

The Doll smiled, "Then I guess he started feeling more for me, but I was oblivious to it—as well as stubborn to my own growing feelings. As a man of the church I believed it to be a horrible sin. It took me a long time to come to terms with such feelings of love for another man.

"And then…After the incident in Germany, he announced to me that he was leaving the Doll making business. It was his choice. He wanted to make a new life for himself— _with_  me. But it wasn't so easy. The Viscount contacted him again, saying he found the man who had caused the incident in Germany. He wasn't going to go, but I could feel that he'd regret not wrapping things up properly and announce to the Viscount his retirement. So I encouraged him to go, causing us to be here today."

Alan paused, letting the Doll's words to sink into people's minds and hearts. "And on the topic of Germany. Why do you think Death resisted arrest?"

"Because he wished to keep me safe. I'm a Bizarre Doll as well. He feared I'd be killed like the others regardless of how I was different."

"And what makes you different?"

"…I'm alive." Jase said in a gentle tone, "I have my memories and my free will…I am not a reanimated corpse. I still have my soul. Chronus—the man you call 'Death'…he saved my life, turning me before I passed away. To many of you he's a legendary grim reaper… to others, he's a criminal…but to me…he's my guardian angel, my savior…and my heart. He's a changed man, Mister Humphries, He's not the man who created Dolls because he could. He's not even the man who did—whatever it was that made him a great reaper…he's my loving husband. This…this is his third life." He smiled over at his lover, "One I will spend by his side until death takes us both."

"…Thank you. No further questions." Alan smiled.

Touched by his husband's testimony, Undertaker had to swallow a couple of times, and he wished he could reach out and embrace his beloved as Jase was escorted back out of the room.

"Legendary Death-also known as Chronus Undertaker, please take the stand," urged the judge.

Feeling the eyes of the court on him, the old reaper got to his feet and he shuffled over to the stand as directed by the guards. He sat down there and he reminded himself that he wasn't to lose his temper, no matter what the prosecutor said to him.

"Why did you begin making the dolls, sir?" queried the lawyer.

Undertaker shrugged. "I wanted to learn. I wanted to understand more about death, and these folk were already dead and gone, so I didn't see the harm in it."

"I see. What motivated you to turn Mr. Dubois into a doll, then? He was clearly still alive when you did your work on him."

"Yes, he was," agreed Undertaker, "and he wouldn't have remained so for very long, if I hadn't intervened. I acted out of curiosity at first, but he became...special...to me. Cherished."

Undertaker's gaze went to the double doors that Jase had vanished through. "He began as an experiment to try and extend mortal life. He became much more to me than that, by the end."

"But you created him knowing that he would be just as dangerous to mortals as your other dolls," persisted the lawyer, "you did it regardless of that known fact."

Undertaker smirked at him. "I never intended for Jase to be a weapon, if that's what you're trying to hint. He was a confirmation that I could do the procedure on living humans, if necessary. As my spouse has already testified, I am no longer in the business."

"So you say, and yet it cannot be ignored that you have been guilty of creating hundreds of these monsters" murmured the lawyer. "No further questions, your Honor. I believe the Prosecution rests."

Alan stood then, "Death, just so that the prosecution is clear; what proof have you that Jase was never meant to be used as a weapon? To be a danger to others?" He knew that final statements would be said still, and he wanted to make sure that Jase could not be used against Undertaker.

Chronus felt a twinge of dismay. He really had no way of proving his intentions, concerning Jase. He looked down at his clasped, manacled hands and he shrugged.

"I can't prove a thing like that, except to demonstrate the subconscious command I implanted to stop him attacking humans. To do that, I would need Jase exposed to a wicked man. A murderer or rapist, perhaps."

"Wouldn't our own Mister Sutcliff work for such a thing?" The judge asked, glancing at the redhead.

Alan shook his head, "I believe he's only triggered by humans of the sort. Would I be correct, Death?"

Chronus nodded. "That's right. I can only assume it's due to our supernatural build. I don't know if the same applies to demons, yet. He hasn't been exposed to any since the night I found him."

Next to Ronald, William gave a decisive nod and stood up. "I thought something like this might occur. Your honor if I may, I have taken the liberty of providing a subject for demonstration purposes. His memory of being brought here will of course be removed, when we return him to his home."

The judge nodded, "Always prepared for anything, as usual, Mister Spears. Please have the Doll brought back in so that this may be demonstrated."

A guard nodded and hurried out to get Jase, moments later the doors opening, and the confused Frenchman was escorted back in.

While they brought Jase before the jury, William put his phone to his ear. "Bring the mortal," he instructed someone on the other line. Moments later, the doors opened again and two fledgling reapers came in, dragging a protesting blond Englishman between them. He was blindfolded and bound, but they had unfortunately neglected to gag him.

"Unhand me at once!" shouted the man. "What is the meaning of this! Do you know who I am? I am the Viscount Druitt! I'll have your hides for this, you shameless miscreants! Release me!"

The two reapers ignored his demands and kept dragging him. Undertaker blinked, then looked at William. "You're a cagey one, Mr. Spears. Nicely played."

William gave a brief, respectful nod to the ancient, and he spoke to the judge. "This man is a member of the organization that commissioned Legendary Death to create his Bizarre Dolls, with the intention of using them as living weapons. As you know from our reports, they failed to control the creatures and many of them fell victim to their attacks in a twist of irony. I thought it fitting that he should be the test subject."

Druitt paled at those words, drawing his own conclusions. "Please, it wasn't me! You...you can't do this to me! You can't feed me to one of those things...I'm a monarch!"

"Bring him before Mr. Dubois," ordered William as if the man hadn't even spoken.

Behind his blindfold, Jase's eyes widened, and he looked over at his husband, only calming when he realized how calm his lover seemed. "Y-you won't let me hurt him…" he murmured right before the Viscount was brought within his range and he could feel his sins. Jase's posture slumped, his mouth watering as he fell into his Doll-like state. Hunger. His mouth opened in need of biting into the blond.

Chronus bided his time as his husband began to shuffle over to the kidnapped human, allowing the jury to see the behavior in full. The two reapers holding Druitt looked at their superior uneasily as the doll came closer and closer, his mouth open and his expression blank. William nodded at them, silently bidding them to stay as they were. When Jase was close enough to reach out for the hapless blond and loom in for a bite, Chronus decided it was time to stop him.

"Jase, your master commands you to stop. Harm no-one."

The Frenchman's arms dropped to his sides and he went still, his head bowing as if he were asleep. Chronus swallowed, hating the necessity of it. He looked at the judge. "Does that satisfy you?"

"And how does this prove that you can't force him to do other things?" the persecution spoke up.

Undertaker gave him an exasperated look, and he grinned sharply. "Jase, be a dear and eat that obnoxious man, won't you?"

The prosecutor recoiled with an alarmed look at the doll, but Jase remained stationary. Undertaker looked at the lawyer smugly. "You see? I didn't design him to be a weapon, when I altered him. The constraints of his trigger merely put him in a dormant state until the presence of human sin goes out of range. If you take the Viscount away, Jase will awake on his own. Otherwise it will wear off in a couple of hours, or I can end it with a command."

The judge looked at the whimpering Viscount curiously, and he nodded at his retainers. "Remove him from the room. I'd like to see this."

They obeyed, and before they were even out the door, Jase began to snap out of it.

Blinking, Jase lifted his head, reaching up to rub it as he took notice that he stood in a new location, hinting that quite a bit of time had passed. At least compared to what he assumed it would be. "…You could have warned me that might happen! I was afraid for him for a moment!"

Alan smiled, "Sorry, Jase, it wasn't a planned demonstration."

"My apologies, dearest," Undertaker said from his seat in the stand. "I only allowed it to go on so long to demonstrate how completely your compulsion stops you, when it's used."

"Yes, it was necessary," said William. He looked over his shoulder at the doors and he raised a brow. "If the court will excuse me now, I must see to it that the viscount is properly seen to and returned home."

The judge waved. "Go right ahead, Mr. Spears. Thank you for the demonstration."

William left then, and Jase was again escorted out of the courtroom, leaving Undertaker to face more questions from both sides.

"Death—"

"Ah! He's my witness right now. You turned questioning over to myself." Alan interrupted the lawyer before turning back to Undertaker, "Death. Your lover said you chose to retire from the Doll making business. Can you confirm that without you, the business—known to be made up of only humans—would crumble? That Bizarre Dolls would no longer be an issue to the world?"

Chronus nodded. "Without me, they can't raise a fruit fly...let alone a human. I'd intended to inform the Viscount that our business was concluded, the night of my capture."

"And then you planned to return to the cottage in France where your husband awaited you? Live out a calm, peaceful life with him?"

"That was the intention, yes." Undertaker sighed, looking down at his clasped hands in his lap. "Had it not been for Jase, I might have gone on creating those dolls indefinitely. He made me see things differently...changed my priorities."

"Thank you. No more questions." Alan nodded.

The judge nodded and watched as Undertaker returned to the bench. "We will now hear the closing statements."

The prosecution attorney went first. He paced before the jury, and he pointed out all of Undertaker's transgressions against the rules of life, death and Shinigami society. "This man may be a legend amongst our kind, but he is not immune from the rules. He has killed his own, he has made a mockery of this establishment, he has revealed himself to humans—"

"I never flashed my goods at anyone," objected the ancient with an offended look, drawing chuckles from the jury and witnesses.

"Mr. Undertaker, this is your final warning," said the Judge ominously.

The ancient smiled and pardoned himself. "Right. Not another peep from me, your honor."

"As I was saying," said the lawyer in annoyance, "the defendant has revealed his true nature to more than one human, on more than one occasion. He has defied Dispatch at every turn, refusing to relinquish his death scythe when he defected, attacking investigating agents, and oh yes...turning corpses into weapons of flesh. It was bad enough that he did all that, but his latest creation is an even bigger travesty. He turned a human being into something unnatural; an abomination."

He paced some more. "We would all like to respect what the Undertaker has done for this establishment in the past, and it's only natural to feel some sympathy for him and the Frenchman. After all, it wasn't Jase Dubois' fault that he happened to be found by a madman and transformed into the thing that he is now. Feel sympathy for them...honor the reaper that the defendant once was, but don't allow those things to blind you to his crimes. I urge you to find the defendant guilty, so that he can be incarcerated for his own good and his...spouse...can remain safely in our custody. Prosecution rests, your honor."

He took a bow and went to his seat. Behind the witness stand, Undertaker was clenching his hands hard enough to dig his nails into his palms and draw blood. Hearing him talk about Jase that way nearly undid him...but he supposed by the half-disappointed look on his face that making him lose his temper and strike out had been his true goal behind those barbs.

Alan stood up, "Ladies and gentlemen, I am not here to convince you that my client is innocent. He has already admitted his guilt in creating Bizarre Dolls. No, my client is undeniably guilty of his crimes. However, I beg you to look at this man we all revere. Look at the changes he's gone through. His change of heart, and his regret. He regrets it, not because he was caught. He had chosen to reveal himself to young Knox and Mister Sutcliff. He regrets his actions because he's no longer the man who started making the Dolls. He is no longer that man—because of the influence of one young former human…Jase Dubois."

He looked back at Undertaker, "He saved Mister Dubois' life that night…maybe for selfish reasons, but that choice…it set into motion a series of changes within him. Legendary Death only cares for the safety of Jase Dubois…and Jase Dubois has also expressed his need for Legendary Death's safety. I must remind the court that Mister Dubois' fate rests in your hands just as much as Death's does. He's done nothing wrong; committed no true sin or wrong-doing in either his lives; human or doll. He should not be treated as a criminal. He is not a weapon, but a man in love.

"What right have we to keep a man in our custody when he committed no crime? The Prosecution would have us cage him up like an animal after ripping his heart from his chest with the execution of his husband. He may be unnatural, but he still is the mind, heart, and soul of a human. It was only the mortality of his body that was changed. We were all once humans too. Changed by fate to become reapers. How different can we really be from him? Being changed by fate or a madman…it doesn't matter. What matters is that  _he_  changed that madman in turn.

"I beg you to take this all into consideration. Death must answer for his crimes…but must his punishment be so great that it ruins the life of an innocent bystander? I think not. Please, show him mercy, for he has already changed his ways and only wishes for a peaceful life in the French Countryside with his husband. The Defense rests. Thank you." Alan sat down.

"We'll take a recess while the jury comes to its verdict," said the judge. "Take the defendant back to his cell, to be called back when a verdict is reached."

Undertaker allowed his guards to help him up and lead him by his chains, and he cast a brief, thankful look at Alan in passing. How this was going to go was anyone's guess, but he felt the boy had put up a very strong defense. It probably helped that he himself had coaxed a few chuckles from the audience, and Jase...well...who could resist his sweet nature?

Eric and Alan joined him as he was escorted back to his cell, and when he found Jase in there waiting for him, he eagerly stepped through the door. He tried to embrace the doll but the irons hampering him made it impossible, so he settled for nuzzling his hair and settling his hands on his hips when Jase hugged him.

"How are you feeling, love?" murmured Chronus.

"You already know I'm worried…" Jase looked up at him, reaching up to push back his bangs, "I could lose you today…" he swallowed, "What if what I said wasn't enough?"

"You'll never lose me, Jase," promised Chronus. He lowered his mouth to his and he kissed him. "We're a part of each other now...forever."

Suddenly feeling like an eavesdropper, Eric sighed and put an arm around his spouse. "Maybe we ought to give them a moment alone."

Alan nodded, "It could be their last…"

"How much time do we have?" Jase whispered once they were alone, "Will I be able to go with you to hear? I hate being stuck back here not knowing what's going on…"

"I think they'll allow it, if we get Mr. Humphries and Mr. Slingby to push for it," said Chronus. "I have no idea how long it will take for them to reach a verdict. It has to be unanimous, so there's likely to be some arguing back and forth amongst the jury members to reach an agreement."

Looking around at the holding room-which they had dimmed for Jase's comfort, the reaper sighed. He took his hands off the doll's waist and he lifted them to cup his face. "Let me look into your eyes, my dear."

Jase looked up, sliding off his blindfold which he hadn't removed as he didn't know when he'd be sent for again after the unexpected demonstration. Blue swirled eyes met reaper green and gold.

"Such lovely eyes," whispered Chronus, caressing the Frenchman's sculpted face. He kissed each eyelid softly, before claiming Jase's mouth with his. With any luck, they would at least put Jase in the protection program and set him up as a ward of Dispatch, to be watched over by an assigned agent. He doubted they would let either of them go free, and there was a chance that one or both of them could even be executed, if the jury decided they were too dangerous to let live.

He put the grim possibilities aside, focusing only on the feel of Jase's lips against his.

* * *

To be continued...


	30. Chapter 30

The jury deliberated for hours, but finally reached a conclusion. Undertaker and Jase were retrieved and escorted back to the courtroom where they would finally learn their fate.

Jase's nerves grew, his stomach twisting painfully and he reached over, grabbing his husband's arm as everyone took their places once more.

"All rise," commanded the judge. He looked at the juror and nodded. "Proceed with the reading of the verdict."

The man looked down at the clipboard in his hand and adjusted his glasses before reading. "We the jury find the defendant guilty of violating the natural laws of reaper and man. However, it is unanimously agreed that the punishment of death is too harsh. Instead, we ask that Legendary Death, alias Chronus Undertaker, be granted a merciful sentence of ten years imprisonment in this establishment's holding ward. Upon his release, he shall be on probation for an additional twenty years, in which time he will allow Dispatch agents to inspect his home and place of business every fortnight, and he will report to his assigned probation officer each week. As for Mr. Jase Dubois, the jury agrees that he is innocent of any wrongdoing, as well as being of little threat to the safety of others, and therefore should not be destroyed. We ask that he be named a ward of our society, to be assigned an agent as his guardian until the defendant has done his time and is released from custody. Mr. Dubois will then be free to go home with his spouse, so long as there are no incidents."

Undertaker took Jase's hand in his, finding the sentence better than he'd expected. What was thirty years altogether, to an immortal? His only concern was who would be assigned as Jase's guardian. If it was Grell, he'd probably be better off dead.

The judge banged his gavel. "The sentence holds. Have the prisoner escorted back to his current holding cell, and he will be transported to the prison facility in the morning. Mr. Dubois will have a guardian assigned to him by upper management, and he'll live with this guardian until Legendary Death is released. This court is adjourned."

The guards moved to escort Undertaker, but Jase spoke up, "W-wait! Don't I get a chance to say goodbye to my husband? It's…it's going to be ten years, after all."

The judge nodded and the guards stepped back.

Jase threw his arms around Chronus, tears in his eyes as he pulled himself up to press his lips to his. "I love you…" he whispered lovingly, "If they let me…I'll come see you as much as I can…"

Undertaker hunched over to kiss away the tears that spilled out from under the blindfold, unable to return his embrace as he'd like. "Ten years isn't so long, love. It's going to feel a lot longer if I don't get to see you of course, but as long as I know you're safe, I can live with it. I love you more than words can say, and I'll count the days until I'm free to take you home."

"It doesn't mean I have to like it…" he attempted to give him a smile, "You were supposed to be gone a week—not ten years. I miss you already, mon amour." He paused, and then, he reached up, taking off his locket, slipping it around his lover's neck, "Until you are free again." He said when his husband gave him a questioning look.

Chronus smiled painfully, wishing he still had one of his old lockets to give him in return. "Until then, my heart. Stay safe for me."

He kissed him one last time, before being led away. Eric came up beside Jase and he laid a comforting hand on his shoulder as the ancient was taken away. "Alan and I have put in a request to be your guardians," said the blond man with a nod at his spouse. "If they agree, we'll try to make your stay as comfortable as we can."

Jase looked up at Eric, biting his lip in attempt to hold back the sense of loss he felt when Chronus was led away. "Thank you…" he glanced over at Alan who also walked over to join them, "And thank you for helping Chronus like you did."

Alan smiled and gave a nod, "Of course. After all, I'd hope that someone would work hard to help Eric if he ever did something incredibly stupid."

Eric didn't get offended by his mate's disparaging teasing. "I've been known to do stupid things before," he said with a wink at Alan. "But he keeps me in line, most of the time."

The judge called out to the two reapers in question then, bidding them to come to his chair. When they excused themselves and did so, he looked them both in the eye assessing.

"I understand how you both sympathize with our...guest. That's why I'm reluctant to let you take on the responsibility of keeping Mr. Dubois as your ward."

"But sir—" began Eric in protest.

The judge held up a hand for silence. "However, the only other agents volunteering for this task are Mr. Sutcliff, and Mr. Spears. Supervisor Spears gave his personal recommendation that you should be the ones to do it, when he saw that you applied."

He looked over their heads at Jase. "Frankly, I think the boy has been through enough, so Sutcliff is cut from that list. That leaves the two of you and Spears...and he is already overworked, as it is. Now, we can skip the interview process and send him straight home with you, but I warn you not to entertain thoughts of helping him leave this realm. Don't let your sympathies for him and Death lead you astray, understand?"

"Your honor, I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. I already keep my husband in line, what's one more kid?" Alan smiled, teasing his husband, "And I believe that Jase will be the better behaved one of the two. I believe he only wonders if he would be able to visit his husband once in a while—under supervision of course?"

"That would depend on Mr. Undertaker's behavior while in our holding facility. If he follows instructions, does no violence and attends counseling as required, then I can arrange for visits. Good behavior should be rewarded, and perhaps the visits will encourage him to stay in line. I can't promise anything if he causes trouble, however. We shall see how he's adjusting at the end of the month, and if the outlook is favorable, I'll put in a recommendation. Who knows, he may even be eligible for early parole if his behavior is good enough. It really depends on his actions."

"Hmm, I'm not so sure a man like him can resist stirring the pot a little," Eric muttered. "We'd better find out what we could bring him to keep entertained, or he might start pulling pranks just to get a laugh and that wouldn't look too hot on his record."

"Books, cards and certain snacks are allowed, once they've been properly screened," explained the Judge. "Cigarettes, cigars and pipe tobacco are too, though I don't believe he smokes."

"Thank you. We'll look forward to hearing more if we can take Jase to see him. otherwise, he'll stay at home with us." Alan confirmed.

* * *

 

_I write this knowing that my Jase is safe and secure with Alan Humphries and Eric Slingby. It's a pity that he must be kept like this, but when he was finally allowed to visit me, he informed me that his hosts were allowing him to go outside on his own, granting him a measure of freedom. He's been very careful to monitor his body temperature and water intake, having finally pinned down how high it could go before he needed to soak. The advanced technology in the Shinigami realm helps with that immensely, in my absence. They have freezing units here, and Eric came up with the brilliant idea of purchasing a used one—not to store perishable food, but for Jase to climb into when he needs more than water or a bath to cool down quickly._

_I'm proud of him. He's very resourceful, my dollie. I think I may have coddled him a bit too much when we were together...or perhaps he simply enjoyed having his food prepared for him. He's learned to prepare his own meals, though he only eats three or four times per week. He does it for the simple pleasure of tasting it, since there aren't any humans in this realm to stir his darker half. He's taken to carving again, and he's already presented each of his hosts with crafted keepsake boxes as gifts. He seems quite fond of them, and they of him._

_Alan told me the most amusing thing during one of his visits to me, during the first year of my incarceration. He said that Eric overheard Jase crying in the bathroom one night (and I confess, I've come close to doing the same thing on more than one occasion), and he felt so sorry for the boy that he went and found a stuffed doll made in my likeness, in one of the gift shops. Apparently, I have a bit of a fan base, and some reapers collect little dollies of their idols—though they could probably pick better role models than yours truly._

_That tickled me to hear, but what actually touched me was when Alan told me he brought the Undertaker doll home to Jase as a gift. The proud little gent was mightily embarrassed, but touched, and he put it safely in his closet...only to be found sleeping with it early the next morning. Now he sleeps with it all the time, and he brings it into the freezer with him when he needs to climb in to cool off. I of course haven't mentioned the doll to him, though it makes me grin to think that my doll has a doll of me. How ironic and fitting, wouldn't you say? Unfortunately, I have no miniature version of Jase to cuddle at night, but I have his locket...and that's of comfort to me._

_As for me, I've been here for five years now, and counting. It's a might bit easier, now that I've served half of my sentence. Only five more years to go. Sutcliff—the little monster—likes to drop by for a visit to taunt me or flirt with me...I'm never quite sure which. To that one, everything is a form of flirtation. Sadly for him, I usually end up stirring him up more than he can stir me, and I have every reason in the world to behave. I could refuse his visits if I wanted to, but the way I see it, every time I demonstrate a level head despite his rather obnoxious efforts to provoke a violent reaction in me, it's a mark in my favor. There has even been hints that Dispatch is so impressed with my behavior that I could be up for early parole as soon as next year._

_The hardest part—besides missing my spouse terribly—is the boredom. I find myself tossing jokes at the guards and my fellow inmates for laughs. I know them all by name now, and most of them seem to like me well enough...though I can be a bit much for them. I really wish they'd grant Jase and I conjugal visits, but so far we only get an hour in a monitored, reinforced cell. The authorities have some silly notion that Jase will get overheated and burst into flames if they allow us to copulate. I keep telling them that they only increase the risk of that happening by not letting us have a special hour or two once per month, but I suppose they're concerned about a fire starting and the system opening all the cells to allow the inmates out. They're supposed to be prepared for such an event, having a planned evacuation route that inmates must follow to the exercise yard, seeing as all other doors that could lead outside will automatically seal, and can only be opened by guards._

_At least they let my darling bring a brush with him for his visits, so that he may brush my hair while we chat. I brush his in turn, and that's the closest thing to sex we've had together in five years. I've developed a greater appreciation for my hand, and though none of them have the stones to try and force themselves on me, I've turned down quite a few offers for physical satisfaction from other inmates._

_Enough of my romantic woes. My Jase is coming to visit me today, and at the risk of sounding like Grell Sutcliff, I need to primp a little. Fortunately, the black and white striped uniform rather suits me._

* * *

 

 

A guard walked over to Undertaker's cell, "You're husband is here to see you a little early." He stated with a small smile. He'd become fond of the man—and his Frenchman. It was endearing how they interacted during their visits together, he hated when their time was up and he had to escort Undertaker back to his cell.

Undertaker looked up from the book he was reading after he finished writing in his journal, and he put it away under his pillow—not because he feared someone might try to nab it, but because it was one of the books Jase had brought to him and he liked to keep it close at night. He walked to the cell door and stuck his arms through an opening in the bars, allowing the guard to clamp the manacles on him. The guard unlocked the cell and slid the connecting chains out from the side as he opened the door.

"Don't look so glum, Frank," advised the ancient with a smile. "You're just following protocol. I'm used to these things, now."

The guard nodded, sighing. "I know. That doesn't mean I have to like it. Come along, sir...you know the way."

"I do, indeed."

Undertaker fell into step with him, passing other inmates' cells on the way. "Hey, Chronus," one of them called, "These blokes lettin' you out yet?"

"Not today, I'm afraid," answered the silver reaper. "I've still got five years to serve, remember?"

The thin, black-haired reaper scratched his head. "Oh yeah. Must have got me time messed up again."

"Keep working on it Tobias," encouraged Undertaker. "You're getting better at it." Tobias was due to be released in less than a month. He was so badly injured in a cafeteria dispute a year before that he suffered memory issues-particularly when it came to keeping track of time.

"Shame that happened to him before his sentence was finished," muttered Undertaker to the guard at his side. Most of the reapers being held in this facility were also mental patients, driven mad by time, loss or simply the harsh job of collecting souls. Sociopaths, schizophrenics, psychopaths, and of course maniacs such as Undertaker himself. Tobias was harmless now.

"You did the smart thing, staying out of it," said the guard. "And dragging him away so he wouldn't get further injured. I believe that was the first time in fifty years I've seen a fight like that break out in here."

Undertaker shrugged. "Lock up a bunch of lunatics together and things like that are bound to happen, sooner or later."

"I don't think you're a lunatic."

Undertaker grinned broadly at him. "You didn't meet me before I came here. I'm still not all there."

Frank snorted. "I never said you were 'all there', friend. You're cracked...you're just not a lunatic."

The former mortician laughed aloud at that. "Why, so kind of you to say."

They walked the corridors to the visiting Cell, and the guard unlocked the door and let him inside. "Here we are. See you in an hour, Undertaker."

The ancient wasn't listening to him. He was staring at the small Frenchman in blue and black attire, who had stood up at the sound of the door clicking open and was staring through his blindfold at the tall, silver reaper. "Jase," said Undertaker, immediately basking in his presence.

The Frenchman smiled and hurried over, hugging his husband and pulling him down into a kiss. "I brought you something." He smiled, "I came early because I hadn't known how long it'd take to get through screening—and I needed to get them out of the house before Eric ate them all." Leading his husband over to the table, he sat in his lap and slid a tin containing chocolate and peanut butter cookies closer. The cookies were all broken in half; due to protocol to ensure nothing had been baked into any of them. "Alan helped me make them…since I'm unable to taste as I work in the kitchen."

Undertaker—having an insatiable appetite for cookies of all flavors, immediately grabbed one up and stuck it into his mouth. He grinned happily as he munched and swallowed the treat. "Mm, delightful! Seems like ages since I've had a baked good." He sat down and he reached across the table to take Jase's hands in his, lifting them up to kiss each of them in turn. "Thank you, my dear. I...made something for you, as well."

"Oh?" Jase tilted his head in curiosity.

The reaper nodded and clumsily reached into his pocket for a little tin they'd let him keep from the last time a visitor brought him snacks. He slid it over the surface of the table to Jase, feeling suddenly embarrassed. "I'm terrible with clay or paints, unless I'm working on a coffin with the latter. They don't allow us to keep knives of any sort and any sort of carving I could try to make anyway would pale next to yours, and we aren't allowed knitting needles either. This is all I could really make for you, given what I had to work with.

Jase opened the box to find a small paper bird inside, created through clever use of folding. It was blue in color.

"The Japanese call it 'origami'," explained Chronus as Jase lifted it carefully out of the tin. "If you tug on its tail, the wings flap. I tried to make it look like a blue jay for you, but they aren't native to these parts or Europe and the last time I saw one was in a zoo, some fifteen years ago."

"It's beautiful…" The Doll smiled and moved around the table to hug him once more, "I miss you…five more years…it still feels forever away."

Undertaker laid his head on Jase's shoulder and put his hands on his waist. He wished they would start removing his manacles once he was in the visiting room, at least. It wasn't as if he was going to harm his own husband, and he sorely missed holding him. "Miss you too, pet. I'm sure our cottage in France has fallen into disrepair, so we may have to find another place to live when this is over...but it will be in the same countryside, where it's quiet and peaceful."

He nuzzled his hair. "All I want to do is settle down with you, as promised."

Jase shook his head, "Alan takes me back there sometimes…The garden's out of control, but we make sure the cottage stays in good shape."

"Oh." Undertaker smiled. "Then my thanks to Alan. The garden will be easy to clean up for me. I was more concerned over the roof collapsing and the floors rotting out."

"Our home's taken care of." Jase reassured him, "And….after this…it is our home…we won't have to pack up and leave unless we want to…but I like our home…and that garden…it's where we took our vows in the moonlight. I wish to stay close to that special spot."

Undertaker took his hands and he urged him to sit down in his lap. "So do I, love. So do I."

Jase smiled and relaxed in Chronus' lap, resting his head on his shoulder. "I heard that redheaded reaper came to see you again…" he muttered after a moment of silence, "I hope he isn't bothering you too much...provoking you."

Undertaker chuckled. "He tries, but I frustrate him more than he angers me. I'd rather him stay focused on me and leave you alone entirely, but I hear Eric made it clear to him that if he tries to lay a finger on you, he'll cut them all off. He's a protective lion, isn't he, that Mr. Slingby?"

Jase chuckled, "he acts more like a father than my own father had. He even calls me 'son' at times. I think he has a longing to be a father, and he sort of sees me as an adoptive son, given the circumstances."

"Well I say that's a good thing," said Chronus with a smile. "So long as he doesn't get overbearing with you. The more protective he is of you, the more I can relax while I'm stuck in this place."

He kissed him then, unable to resist claiming the lips that were so close to his own when Jase tilted his head back to look at him.

Jase wanted to take him home, he wanted to return to their lives together. Sure, Alan and Eric were kind, but watching them interact at home only made him miss his husband all the more—it's why he'd taken to sleeping with tiny Chronus…the doll Eric had given him. The silly little doll was the closest thing he had to the real thing.

"And you continue to be good, mon amour. Don't let the redhead get to you…they may let you come home early, you know. If you behave."

"I would like that," sighed Undertaker. He kissed Jase's chin, then his jaw, then his throat. He started to swell in his striped pants and he gave the doll an apologetic look when Jase gasped a little at the feel of it against the bottom of his thigh. "Er, sorry love. It's not something I can consciously control...especially when it comes to you. It doesn't help that I haven't had you in five years, now."

His hands evidently had minds of their own too, because they caressed Jase's hips without the reaper's conscious direction.

The doll blushed bright red, "It's…it's hard for me, too, but I can't! We're under observation! That's for private!" he pulled away slightly and looked up at him, "Once we can go home…I promise."

Undertaker chuckled. "I wasn't suggesting you straddle me and get naked, my dear. I was only making a statement of fact. If I could deaden that part of me while I'm in here, I would. Don't get spooked and pull away from me now. We've still got fifteen minutes to cuddle."

"So you say as your hand moved down the back of my pants." Jase pointed out, "Control your hands, love."

Undertaker loosened his hold on him and spread his fingers in defeat, grinning boyishly. "Right.  _Those_  tend to have a mind of their own at times around you, as well. Can we commence with the cuddles, now?"

The Doll smiled and nodded, leaning in and sliding his arms firmly around his husband's shoulders, holding him the way he wished he could be held as he nuzzled his neck and pressed a light kiss to his flesh, "You know I wouldn't refuse us that."

They stayed that way for the remainder of their allotted time together, whispering endearments and promises, and sharing the things they had done since they last saw each other. Frank unlocked the door and poked his head in when their time was up, his rather plain features apologetic.

"I'm sorry Undertaker, but it's time."

The ancient sighed and nodded, giving Jase one last nuzzle before helping him out of his lap and standing up. He retrieved his tin of goodies and he gave his husband a cheery smile. "It was wonderful to see you again, love, as always. I look forward to the next visit."

He went with the guard back to his cell then, leaving Jase to be escorted out of the visitation wing by another guard.

* * *

To be continued...


	31. Chapter 31

The sun was starting to set, casting long shadows across the ground as Alan Humphries hurried down the sidewalk, a binder tucked safely under his arm. Turning up the drive to his and Eric's home, he pulled out his house keys and quickly unlocked the door, letting himself in before heading to the kitchen where he found Jase attempting to show Eric how to prepare dinner for he and Alan. However, the Frenchman seemed to be unsuccessful as Eric seemed to have lit his pan on fire, forcing Jase to have to back away and shout at the reaper to snuff it out with the lid.

Alan sighed, setting down the binder on the table and rushing forward to do just that. "Honestly, Eric, this is the third time this month you set our kitchen on fire."

Jase chuckled as the blond hung his head and rubbed the back of his neck, muttering an apology. "You're home early. Eric said you had gotten overtime."

"Not much. It was more a meeting." Alan smiled, "Jase, sit down, I have something to tell you."

The Doll removed his yellow apron and hung it up before taking a seat at the table.

* * *

 

"You've been approved for early parole."

Undertaker's head shot up, his eyes widening as he stared up at the smiling guard. "Sorry chap, I think I was listening with my hopeful ear. Say again?"

Frank laughed and stepped into the cell with him, taking a seat on the empty bunk across from his. "They're going to process you tomorrow for release. You'll still have to do the probation afterwards, but come tomorrow night, you'll be free to take your spouse and go home."

Undertaker was still trying to work his head around it. "Why didn't my attorney tell me this?"

The guard shrugged. "He asked me to give you the good news, while he rushed home to tell Mr. Dubois. Just don't repeat past mistakes and follow the rules of your probation, and you'll be a completely free reaper again in twenty years. Mr. Humphries and his partner will bring Jase here to you tomorrow, so that he can be here for your release."

The ancient started to grin, and then he started to laugh with delight. "Bloody hell man, you gave me a fright! You had such a solemn look on your face when you came in here that I thought you had some terrible news to impart!"

Frank offered his hand, smiling. "Consider it payback for freezing my arse to the toilet, Undertaker."

The older reaper grinned and shook the offered hand. "Ah, thanks for not reporting that one. We didn't quite get off on the right foot when I first arrived."

"No," agreed Frank, "but I'm glad that changed. Better sort through your things and get them ready for tomorrow, so you don't leave anything important behind."

* * *

 

The next day, Jase stood in the front lobby of the Reaper Jail, flanked by Eric and Alan. He was excited. So much so—he could hardly keep still, which made him feel like a wriggling child on Christmas morning, awaiting the chance to open their gift. He'd hardly believed Alan when he was told Chronus was getting out early—he technically had three more years to go.

The Frenchman had hardly slept. He was too anxious, and ended up spending the night packing his belongings which now sat in a bag at his feet. He tried to be patient, but he'd waited seven long years for this day—early though it was. But he behaved. Standing still in his place between his two guardians—until the sound of a buzzer went off and the armored door opened, Undertaker stepping out a free man. Jase ran forward, practically slamming into him before the man had a chance to look about. His arms wrapped tight around his husband's torso. "Chronus!"

"Oof!" Undertaker exhaled in a rush as Jase's slight weight hit him in the solar plexus, but he laughed as soon as he realized that the ambush came from his spouse. He hugged him close, reveling in the ability to finally put his arms around him after all this time. They'd brought him a set of his clothes from his and Jase's cottage for his release, and he was dressed in his customary black robes and top-hat.

Knowing that it used to irritate his dollie to be manhandled, he nonetheless lifted him off the floor and spun him around, while the prison staff, Alan and Eric stood watching and smiling. He was so overjoyed to hold Jase again that his eyes welled with tears and spilled over.

"Dearest," he said huskily, kissing his lips and tasting the salt of answering tears. He felt  _whole_  again, and he didn't even care if he looked like a whimpering mortal right now. He breathed in the scent of his mate, his mind lost to all else. He saw Eric put an arm around Alan, and he blinked away his tears and nodded at them.

"Thank you," he mouthed, not trusting himself to speak further. The two reapers nodded with a smile and turned to leave.

"Chronus!" Jase gasped, "Just because you can—doesn't mean you should! Put me down!" he scolded, but he couldn't help but grin. In reality, he had missed, even this. The reaper could throw him over his shoulder like a sack and he wouldn't protest—much. At long last…they were complete again. He didn't wait to be set back down before his lips were firmly pressed to his husband's.

The ancient refused to comply. He could sense that his mate wasn't sincere with his complaints. He kissed him back and held him tight, never wanting to let him go.

"Home…" Jase whispered against his lips, "We can go home…"

"Yes, finally," agreed Chronus. "Home."

"Are you going to put me down? Or are you planning to carry me, my bag, and yours all the way to France?"

The ancient giggled, so pleased to be free of his prison that he was giddy. "I'd be willing to try, darlin'."

"We have transport waiting for you," Eric said with a smirk, and he picked up both their bags and nodded toward the exit leading outside. "All you have to carry is Jase."

"That works well for me," said Chronus, and he proceeded to do just that, while Alan held the door open for them.

The doll flushed, but allowed his lover to carry him—it had been so long since they had properly been able to have free contact with each other, he wasn't about to force him to set him down. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his neck as he was shifted into a bridal-style hold and carried out through the doors.

As they rode to the outskirts of the British Shinigami city, Eric tried not to notice how tenaciously the couple clung to each other. As his spouse had already observed, he'd grown protective over Jase during his time living with them and though he knew he was no child, he wasn't used to seeing the little guy with anyone this way. It wasn't as if the two of them were sucking face or feeling each other up, but he stayed snuggled in Undertaker's lap without any sign of leaving, and the old reaper held him close. They kept exchanging sweet little kisses and nuzzles, whispering back and forth about their plans when they got home.

It made Eric want to tell Undertaker to watch his hands and keep it chaste. He flushed when the ancient noticed his slight scowl and cocked his head to the side curiously, and he looked away.

Mistaking the reason for his expression, Undertaker smirked. "I hope you didn't get inappropriately attached to my Jase, Mr. Slingby."

Eric blinked, startled. "What?" His golden hair whipped as he looked between the couple sitting across from him and his husband beside him. "That's ridiculous. I just...we've been his guardians for over seven years now. I almost think of the boy as a son, and...well, I'm sorry Jase, but with your size and your...wholesomeness, I don't always remember that you're a man, not a boy."

Chronus snickered softly. "And you're worried that the creepy old man holding him is getting too fresh, is that it?"

Eric blushed deeper. "It's just a reflex. I'm not used to it, but you're his mate and who the hell am I to say you two can't cuddle? I'll just have to get over it, I s'pose."

"Wise choice," agreed the silver reaper, "because I fully intend to make up for lost cuddle time with my husband."

Dark energy began to gather around the carriage, and Eric looked outside the window, relieved to have a distraction from the conversation. "Hang on tight; we're about to cross over to the mortal realm."

Undertaker held Jase closer and braced himself. "Just so long as we don't go crashing straight through our cottage on the other side. What a jolly welcome home that would be."

"It'd give you a laugh." Jase smiled, "And a whole lot more work for the both of us when we set to fixing it all up again." He gave his husband a kiss on the lips right as the carriage jostled violently and there was a flash of light before they found themselves on a dirt country road, rather than the paved roadway of the reaper realm. His timing on the kiss could have definitely been better, as their teeth knocked together, pinching their lips.

"Ah!" Undertaker ran his tongue over the inside of his lips, tasting blood. "You all right, love?" He stroked Jase's hair, sensing his discomfort, too. He heard Eric snort-which was quickly followed by a sharp protest as Alan pinched him with a warning look.

Jase was flushed in embarrassment, "Sorry!" he said as he pulled out his handkerchief, dabbing the blood from his lip—and then from Undertaker's.

Eric burst out laughing and Alan nudged him harder with his elbow, "You've done the same thing, and you know it!"

Undertaker grinned, his teeth stained with some of his blood. His slight wound was already healed up. "These things happen. We'll both survive to tell the tale."

He happened to glance out the window and he went still, seeing their little cottage coming up into view as the carriage followed the curve in the road. Yes, the garden was overgrown and there was some flowering ivy creeping up the northern wall, but it otherwise looked the same as when he'd left it. He rather liked the ivy, and he assumed Jase did to-else he might have cut it down. As long as they kept it pruned to prevent it from creeping too far, it would be fine.

"Home," he sighed. It was strange to go from 'home' being a mortuary to a quaint little cottage on the French countryside.

Jase smiled, looking out the window as they drew closer until finally they pulled to a stop and the driver opened the door. The Frenchman was the first one out, smiling up at their home before turning to wait for Undertaker to join him, "Welcome home."

Undertaker climbed out of the carriage and put one hand on his top-hat to keep it from falling off as he tilted his head back to get a better look up the hill. He put an arm around Jase and began to ascend the stepping stone path up to it, squinting near-sightedly to be sure his poor vision hadn't deceived him, before. The closer they got to it, the clearer he could see it and his grin took to his ears. It was around mid-afternoon and it was a nice, breezy spring day. The fluffy white clouds in the distance made the vision even more lovely to him, and he knew now that he truly could be happy here...so long as he was able to still dabble in his old craft by selling coffins and apothecary goods. He didn't need the dead anymore, because he'd found a life for himself.

Eric and Alan stood watching as the newly freed ancient took in the sight of his home, with one arm around his husband. They smiled at each other, both pleased to have had a part in making this touching scene happen. It was up to the reaper now calling himself Chronus to ensure his freedom went unchallenged, from now on.

After the couple had their moment to appreciate being home at long last, Jase turned to look at Eric and Alan, "Thank you for all your help…you can visit us at any time." He smiled.

Alan nodded with a smile of his own, "Don't be afraid to call on us, either—Especially you, Jase. You've been such a pleasure to have in our home."

Eric nodded, his face going through an interesting shift of expressions. "We'll visit when we can." He looked at Chronus. "If that isn't an issue for you?"

"Not at all," assured the ancient with a smile. He shook hands with both of them. "We owe you chaps a debt of gratitude, and as my husband says: you're always welcome to come over for a visit. In fact, I think you ought to come have dinner and drinks with us some night soon, to celebrate. We've got a spare room to put you up for the night..." He turned to Jase. "It's still a bedroom, right? Not turned into a storage room while we were away?"

"We don't own enough things to need a storage room. You had been planning to build a shed for your workspace with coffins so we never touched the smaller bedroom." Jase said, "But we may need to get new blankets for it"

Chronus nodded. "Then we'll do that. Thank you both again for the help."

Eric checked his watch. "Well, I s'pose we should leave you two lovebirds to get re-acquainted. Alan and I have a lot of paperwork to do tomorrow and he's a grump as it is in the mornings."

"Hey!"

Eric kissed him consolingly on the cheek. "Sorry, I'm just telling it like it is." The blond looked at Jase again and he sighed. "Take care of yourself. I guess you don't need the freezer anymore, since you've got Mr. Chill here to keep you cool, but since you've got electricity, if you ever decide you want it we could bring it to you. All we'd have to do to make it work here is change the plug to fit into the sockets."

"I may need it if Chronus needs to leave for a time—big delivery of coffins a few towns over or something." Jase nodded, giving each of them a hug before they got back in the carriage and drove off, leaving the couple alone for the first time. The doll smiled and turned around to look up at his husband, "…and now we are alone."

Undertaker ignored the flash of light as the Shinigami carriage disappeared into a portal down the road. He smiled, started to reach out for Jase, and nearly tripped over their luggage. "I suppose we ought to bring these inside, first," he sighed ruefully, picking up two of them and leaving the third, smallest one for Jase to carry.

"I probably shouldn't paw at you like a hungry bear right away anyhow," said the reaper with a grin at his shorter companion. "What say we have a nice dinner together and talk for a while, eh? I admit I can be a rather blatant lecher, but I did miss talking freely with you and all the little things as much as I missed the lovemaking."

Picking up the last bag, Jase smiled and hurried on ahead of his lover, taking out the key and opening the door for him, as he had a free hand. "Maybe you wouldn't paw at me—but you best tell that to your hands." He smirked, following him in and setting the bag down at the foot of the stairs. "We'll unpack tomorrow…tonight is for catching up on what we couldn't while you were serving your sentence."

Chronus agreed, and he set the other two bags down beside the one the doll had placed. He drew the smaller man into his embrace again, unable to resist holding him. "I think I almost miss the cuddles the most," he confessed against the soft brown hair, smiling.

Jase's lips twitched into a smile, "You are most used to the cuddling…we cuddled in a way before we got together—when I needed to be cooled."

"It gave me a great excuse," chuckled the reaper. He reluctantly stepped away, unwilling to let his libido spoil the tender homecoming and helpless to stop his body reacting to his nearness. He would make love to Jase quite thoroughly, after they enjoyed some quality time together.

"Come sit in the parlor with me?" he invited.

The Frenchman nodded, hooking their arms together as they moved towards the Parlor. "I'm proud of you." He said as they sat down on the sofa. He smiled at the look his husband gave him, "For behaving yourself enough to get out early. I'm proud of you for that."

Undertaker grinned and shrugged. "You gave me every reason to try, my dear. I must say, my attorney and his partner renewed my faith in Shinigami integrity, a bit."

"All the reapers I've met were good people—well, I have my doubts about the redhead…he gives me a bad feeling when he's around, but Eric, Alan, Mister Spears and that younger one…Ronald… an older man 'Father' Anderson…they were all very kind and respectful. Even that lawyer was kinder once he was no longer trying to get you a harsher punishment. Though I could tell he still thinks I am a danger." Jase pulled the sheet off the sofa and sat down, pulling his husband with him.

Chronus nodded. "All in all, they aren't so bad. Anderson's always been a good egg. They follow the dictates of their society, and I suppose I can't fault them for that. I used to be the same."

He put an arm around the smaller man and he leaned in for a kiss on the cheek. "They could have done a lot worse by us. I can't say I'll drop my guard right away, though—especially if Madam Sutcliff gets assigned as one of the parole inspectors. I should think Dispatch would be smart enough to avoid doing that, though."

"I wouldn't want him in our home. I think that if he was a human he'd trigger my Doll side…It's hard to trust him…especially with how he sometimes talks about you. Half the time I think he wants to kill you…the other half I think he wants to—have you in other ways." The doll slid his fingers mindlessly along the lapel of his lover's robes, "Both I am not okay with him having his way on."

"There was a time before I met you when I thought there could be something between Grell and I," murmured Undertaker. "Oh, not a relationship such as you and I have, of course, but I did once entertain thoughts of sharing pleasure with him. Now the thought curdles my stomach. I could get past his behavior towards me, but when he threatened you any lingering attraction I might have harbored went right down the crapper. The only way that man could ever have me now would be if I was dead or unconscious."

Undertaker kissed the Frenchman's nose adoringly, smiling. "Then again, I can't see myself with anyone other than you, now."

"…Nope. That man is not welcome here!" Jase stated, tightening his arms around his lover. It was that jealousy again. The same feeling as when that woman had nearly kissed Undertaker—the same feeling that had led him to giving into his heart and asking the reaper to kiss  _him._  Only  _him_.

Chronus laughed with delight. "I'll be sure to contact Mr. Spears in the morning and make that clear to him...though I think the man really has more sense than that. He of all people knows what a troublemaker Sutcliff is."

He loosened the ribbon in Jase's hair and pulled it free, so that he could run his fingers through the rich brown locks. "I missed this," he sighed. "Having my hair brushed by you was one of the greatest highlights I looked forward to on visiting days, but it was terribly frustrating not to be able to return the favor, my dear."

Jase smiled, leaning in to kiss the underside of his jaw, "But that's why I brought a brush to most visits…because you enjoy the treatment so much."

"I do, indeed," agreed the reaper with a nod. "My old coworkers used to joke that a mortal on the death list could probably bargain with me for his or her life, if they'd give me a good brush. Do you know what else I missed, dearest?"

"A lot, to be honest. You had so little liberties in that place."

With a mischievous smirk, the reaper burrowed a hand underneath Jase's shirt and tickled him. "This," he elaborated, "is one of the rarely taken liberties I missed so."

The Frenchman flailed, screaming out in a fit of laughter as he wiggled in an attempt to escape his husband's mischievous fingers, "N-nah-no please! Chronus!"

Undertaker flipped the Frenchman onto his back and pinned him down, but he only commenced with the torture long enough to hear that sweet, helpless laughter for a moment or two. Smiling adoringly at him, he stopped and he kissed his flushed cheeks.

"Sorry, dearest. I know you hate that, but you're so cute when you giggle that way." His smile softened at the feel of that lithe young body pressed beneath him, his mischief bleeding into desire.

Jase's laughter calmed into a few soft giggles as he looked up into the one eye not hidden behind the reaper's silver fringe. "I'll forgive you this time…as it's your first night back home with me."

"So gracious of you, my love." Undertaker stared down at him for a moment, and he reckoned it was dim enough in the room to take off his blindfold. He gently did so, and he was lost in the exotic blue swirl of his eyes.

Jase blinked a few times to get used to the light. It wasn't too bright, but it was also still brighter than when he normally removed his blindfold. Gazing up at his husband, he slowly leaned in, pressing their lips together and pushing his hair out of his face.

Chronus let him lead the kiss for a while, closing his eyes as the soft lips brushed against his; feather-soft at first, and then with more pressure. He savored it...honored it...adored it. He trembled slightly as his senses entwined with his husband's. He could never truly appreciate the bond they shared, while he was a prisoner. There was always an underlying tension and fear, along with the knowledge that they always had an audience.

"Jase," he murmured huskily, before caressing between those lips with his tongue, gently and silently asking for access.

"I know…" Jase moaned back, shifting up against his husband. He reached up into his long hair, cradling the back of his head as he pressed his kisses more firmly to his lips.

Chronus' tongue delved into his mouth as he settled his body more firmly atop him. He ran one hand over the doll's hip and outer thigh, before guiding him to bend his leg and put it around his waist. He did the same with the other and he put his arms under Jase's back, cradling him as he rose into an awkward sitting position that put the smaller man astraddle on his lap. He kissed him more deeply, the heat of passion too long denied rising to the surface again. He was helpless to stop it this time, and he slipped his hands down Jase's back to cup his bottom.

"I need you," he gasped against the Frenchman's lips, lifting him up with him as he rose from the sofa. He could sense the doll's answering need and he groaned, hoping he wasn't pushing too hard. He wanted to spend as much quality time with him as possible, but now he was aching all over with lust.

"I need you, too… _Mon amour, mon mari. J'ai besoin de vous tout autant._ " He trailed off, worshiping Undertaker with his lips and soft noises of want, "Bed... _Faisons aimer à nouveau...nous pouvons blottir après_...right now we need this…"

Undertaker paused at the foot of the stairs and pressed Jase up against the wall, further impassioned by his amorous words. He held him in place there, with the doll's legs wrapped around his waist as he ground against him, a growl rumbling in his throat.

He tugged Jase's shirt open, making buttons fly and causing the material to rip. The impassioned reaper retained enough sense to mutter an apology, fearing for a moment that his mate would find his vigor too intense.

"Sorry, lovely," he panted. "I'll take it to be mended tomorrow."

Jase shook his head, "We'll worry about it tomorrow…" his shirt fell away from his shoulders and down his arms, gathering at his elbows as he worked open the buttons along Undertaker's front to expose his own pale flesh.

Chronus didn't waste another moment on it. He could have happily torn off all of his husband's clothes and taken him right there, if he had something on him to prepare him with...

The reaper groaned, laying his head against Jase's shoulder. He had nothing to lubricate with. The supplies he'd left behind years ago wouldn't be any good now, and he didn't feel like hitching up the horses and driving an hour to town and back again to fetch some.

"You're frustrated…" Jase observed, "…why? Don't you want me?"

Undertaker blurted a laugh. "You really should know better, dear heart." He pressed his straining arousal intimately against the doll's, grinning. "Wanting you isn't in question. It's the lack of proper lubrication that makes me worry. Do we have anything available for that?"

Jase flushed, "You all of a sudden changed emotions…" he muttered before nodding over to his bag at Undertaker's feet, "Bag."

"Thank Styx," sighed Undertaker with relief.

He had another conundrum, though; how to retrieve the item without putting Jase down. He shrugged. "Cling to me, love; I'm not willing to break even a second's contact with you."

Jase nodded and hugged his lover with both his arms and legs, "This'll be awkward…but hurry." He groaned, sucking on Chronus' earlobe.

The reaper was momentarily too distracted to do anything, his eyes unfocusing and a shiver of need passing through his lean body. "Ah, darling...you've got a handle on making me breathless," he sighed.

He kept one hand on Jase's bottom to support him as he squatted down and reached for the bag with the other. True to his word, the little Frenchman clung to him like kudzu as he picked it up, and Chronus straightened again and with bag and spouse firmly in hand, he ascended the stairs. He did so with surprising ease and speed, considering his armload. He made it to the top and down the hall to their bedroom, and he briefly noted that it looked the same as he recalled. He smiled in satisfaction and carried his passenger over to the big, four-poster bed, his mouth seeking out Jase's for another kiss as he laid him down on it and covered his body with his own.

Jase yanked open the bag, blindly feeling around in it until his fingers found a small bottle of rose-scented oil. He'd been so nervous about buying it, but he knew he and Chronus would need it once they were alone once more. He held it up, the light catching and reflecting through the clear bottle, making the oil almost glow.

Chronus couldn't restrain his laughter. "You look like someone who's just found the Holy Grail, my love. I'm not one to talk, though. If you hadn't done it, I would have."

Jase blushed deeply, "Don't tease! We need this…"

"Oh, we do indeed," conceded the reaper. He lowered his head to shower kisses over Jase's chest, while his hands busily unfastened his trousers. "How in death did I manage to get by for seven years without this?"

"I imagine the same way I did?" the former priest flushed, lowering his hand and running it over his own crotch, making sure his lover was watching the slow movement.

Chronus' eyes followed the motion, and he paused in his busy actions to wipe his mouth; just in case there was a bit of drool. He laid his hand over the one Jase was touching himself with, and he guided it to start rubbing. He rolled off of him and lay on his side, kissing him languidly despite his desperate need, watching him rub the bulge in his trousers with guidance of his hand.

"I think we need to free you from these trousers, love," murmured the reaper huskily, and he released Jase's hand to do just that. Now staring into the Frenchman's eyes, he guided Jase to grip his own shaft and ease it out of his pants. He curled his fingers around the doll's and he began to move his hand—and Jase's.

"I've thought about what you might look like when you pleasure yourself," he admitted softly, his silver lashes dropping over his glowing eyes as he looked down at the flushed erection they were stroking together. He raised his eyes again and he smiled crookedly. "The reality is so much better than the fantasy, my dear."

The short Frenchman lay on the bed, his hair spread out around his head, his abs flexing as his hand stroked his shaft a little more firmly, his legs moving apart and sliding across the sheets until one dangled over the side. With a moan, Jase closed his eyes and rolled his hips; showing his lover exactly what he looked like when he pleasured himself while they were separated, "Only because I could see your face in my mind, Chronus…"

This was torture...but it was such a sweet kind of torture that Undertaker could happily endure again and again, if he had to choose a punishment. He watched his spouse with fascination, simply enjoying the way he looked right now, with his shirt hanging open and his hand sliding up and down his length. He stopped guiding him, leaving him to his pleasure without his guidance. He tweaked one of his nipples, before lowering his mouth to the other and flicking his tongue over it.

Jase let out another long moan, "Chronus…it's been so long…" he peeked open his eye and looked at his husband, "—touch me?" Sliding his free hand over, he felt up along Chronus' inner thigh, giving it a squeeze, "Please?"

The soft, gentle plea made the reaper's breath catch, and he couldn't summon the wit to speak. Instead, he let his actions speak for him. He gently removed Jase's hand from his shaft, and he replaced it with his own.

Ah, he'd missed this, more than words could possibly say. He kissed Jase's arching neck as the doll tilted his head back with pleasure at his sure, eager touch, and he gripped him firmly as he began to stroke.

Once freed, Jase's hands moved to start removing Undertaker's remaining clothes; tugging and pushing until he managed to get them off his lover, exposing him to the same sorts of touches. His hands slid over smooth skin; abs, hips, thighs…until he finally took his member in hand and began to stroke.

"Unh...oh, love," gasped the reaper, nearly forgetting what he was doing as his husband's hand slid over his aching length. He slowly thrust into his grip, while pumping his own hand up and down Jase's arousal.

He reached for the oil with his free hand, deftly uncorking it with the practiced skill of a man accustomed to handling all manner of vials and bottles.

"Stop for a moment and open your hand, lovely," urged the reaper as he held up the vial.

When he complied, Chronus dribbled some of the oil over his hand so that he could apply it to his shaft. With that done, he sat up long enough to pour some into his own hand. He set the bottle aside-without the stopper-and he curled his oiled fingers around Jase's arousal again.

The oil made his hand glide easily over the taut flesh, and he gasped when Jase began stroking him again, too. It felt even better with lubrication, and he feared he could not take much without spilling himself.

Slowly—and seeming to know he was teasing his husband, Jase gave the shaft in his hand long firm strokes, keeping a steady pace that gave no hint of going faster. To add to it, he pressed himself against Undertaker, moaning into his ear.

Jase rolled onto his side, leaning in and pressing kisses to Undertaker's chest, small moans ghosting from his lips, his free hand roaming over skin.

"Oh, great mother of death," moaned the reaper, "you...J-Jase..."

His spouse had never been so bold with him before, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. "Darling, that's so good...so good, Jase."

He thrust faster into the touch, turning his head to claim his mouth for a kiss. He could tell that Jase was enjoying the power he had over him, and he couldn't begrudge him that.

The doll yelped in surprise and shifted closer, placing a hand on his hip, "…You'll finish too soon…I…I want this to last…I want to feel you inside again…" he hummed, his breath growing ragged. He nipped at his lower lip.

"R-right," gasped Undertaker. He fiercely brought his lust to heel, groaning softly with thwarted need. "Feeling you touch me that way, after seven years with nothing but a quick fix with my hand in the loo...I can't even describe how heavenly it felt."

He willed his pounding heart to slow, along with his breathing. He kissed Jase gently and resumed stroking him. "I want it to last too, my dear."

"I love you…" Jase breathed, resuming his slow strokes. "I've needed you…it was so hard…being away from you and with another couple like us…"

Thinking of how many kisses and cuddles he must have bore witness to in the privacy of Alan and Eric's home, even if they tried to be discreet in front of him, Chronus understood. He didn't see a lot of snuggling happening in the facility himself, but he'd seen established couples pair off together to eat, exercise or do other activities and it had been a harsh reminder of what he'd lost during imprisonment.

"It's over now," he said breathlessly, "and we have innumerable years to make up for it. You might even get sick of me."

The last was said with a smile and a wink.

"Never." Jase shook his head, pressing kisses along his collarbone, "Never."

Chronus trembled helplessly as the steady, slow strokes of Jase's hand started to bring him close to climax again. He sucked in a sharp breath and called upon discipline, unwilling to make his spouse stop the wonderful treatment. He held still for him, avoiding thrusting into his gripping hand for fear he'd drive himself over the edge if he did. He kissed him softly, his breath huffing over his lips as he continued to massage Jase's length in turn.

The doll moaned, "Y-you'll make me come too fast, too…" he rested his forehead against his shoulder, biting his lip.

The reaper grinned. "No such thing in your position, love...unless you want to top me. Recovery time isn't as much an issue for the receiver." He traced the doll's parted, gasping lips with his tongue, fighting back a groan of need.

"I—I want to—with you…" he admitted, sliding a leg up along Undertaker's.

Undertaker's brows went up, and he thought he should get some clarification before making assumptions. "You'd like to top, my love?"

He shook his head, "I meant t-together… he breathed.

At once, the reaper felt stupid. "You want us to reach completion together. Forgive me, dearest. It's so bloody hard to think coherently, right now."

Even with the bond sharing some of Jase's emotions and sensations with him, verbal communication at this point was fraught with difficulty. Undertaker couldn't remember the last time he was this randy...and that was saying something. He grinned painfully at his love, and he reached for the oil again.

"I think in that case, we should take it to the next level," he breathed, "otherwise your poor old husband might not last."

Jase nodded and released Undertaker's shaft, letting it rest so that they could enjoy being inside each other just a little longer than if he continued to tease him. But, Jase didn't completely pull back; trailing kisses along his shoulders and neck.

Chronus eased Jase onto his side, facing away from him, as he slicked up his fingers. He put the oil away, helped his spouse the rest of the way out of his pants and kissed his shoulder and neck as he retracted his nails. He could tell Jase was a bit tighter than the last time they were together when he gently pressed a lubed fingertip into him and heard him gasp. Their time apart had done away with Jase's adjustment to him, and he knew he was going to have to take it slow.

Much like their first time, the reaper distracted him with kisses, caresses and murmured endearments as he gently began to loosen him up. "So beautiful," he breathed sincerely. "I missed you so much."

He could sense the smaller man trying to relax for him, and he did his very best to ease his manipulations without making him orgasm. He folded a leg beneath him as support and rose into a half-sitting position, so that he could prepare him and touch him in other places at the same time, while retaining his balance. Crouching over his lover, he whispered nonsense to him and caressed his body with his free hand.

Slowly, the Frenchman began to relax, sinking into the mattress and panting lightly. Too long. It had been far too long since they had been together. His body was practically screaming it at him. He almost felt like the unsure virgin he had been on that stormy night he and his lover first became one.

"Almost there, love," promised Undertaker, showering kisses over Jase's shoulder.

He slid his free hand down to caress the doll's stomach and hip, before gripping his swollen member again and stroking it slowly. The action distracted the Frenchman enough to help him relax further, and Undertaker slipped another finger inside of him and began to scissor them. It was easier this time than it had been the first, due to the supernatural spousal bond they shared. He could faintly feel what his companion was feeling, giving him a better idea of how much pleasure or discomfort he was causing him. Thankfully, there seemed to be more of the latter right now, and he smiled with relief. Making love with a connection like this took out some of the guesswork, without spoiling anything.

"Sweet, lovely dollie," purred the reaper amorously, between kisses. He hadn't called Jase his "dollie" in a while, but the young man didn't seem offended by it. For Undertaker, it was a term of endearment. He stroked the gland within him and he nuzzled his temple as he gasped.

The term 'dollie', for Jase, had become more of a pet name. In the beginning it had felt more like a declaration of ownership. But as they grew closer, the word began to be filled with a sense of adoration. He grew to like it, rather than resent it—as long as it was coming from Chronus' lips. One other person—that annoying red reaper by the name of Grell Sutcliff—had called him it once. Only once. Jase had had no problem with diving into a lecture about it until the redhead finally backed down and left him alone. Eric had been quite entertained over it.

Jase gasped and moaned, letting his lover stretch him out little by little as he awaited the reason it was necessary to do so. "Chronus..!"

"Kiss me, darlin'," requested the reaper, rubbing his length up against Jase's naked bottom as he continued to prepare him. He was struggling now, barely clinging to restraint.

The doll craned his neck, turning half way to connect their lips. His kisses grew hungry and passionate, nipping at his lover's lip with a moan.

Chronus ran the tip of his tongue over Jase's parted lips, before delving between them with it to claim his mouth in a passionate kiss. He smoothly withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the head of his arousal, nudging in carefully. He put an arm around his husband and he groaned into the kiss as he rocked forward, filling him slowly so as not to cause inadvertent pain.

"A-hh!" Jase gasped into the kiss, his fingers gripping the sheets tighter as pain mixed with pleasure and he found himself filled with his lover—his husband. His own member twitching against his gut as he took a slow, deep breath to relax, accepting him.

Chronus took a shuddering breath, in love all over again with the feel of being inside of him. He didn't think it was possible to forget how perfectly Jase fit around him, but after seven years, it was a delightful shock to the senses.

"Oh, darlin'," he murmured against the soft, moaning lips. He eased in the rest of the way and he took a moment to savor it, curling his fingers around the smaller man's erection again.

He fondled the length of it as he began to move. "You fit me like a glove," he purred, sliding his gripping hand up and down the length of Jase's arousal and feeling it pulse slightly in his grip.

Jase shifted against him, "I—it's better than I remember…" he groaned, his voice heavy with pleasure.

"I suppose...absence really does...make the heart grow fonder," said the reaper huskily. He nibbled Jase's earlobe and closed his eyes, breathing in his scent. He kept it slow and steady, letting his spouse feel every hard inch of him as he pumped in and out.

"Ahh—ah-hnn…" Jase moaned and panted out in time with his lover's thrusts, moving with him to help feel each inch, to ensure Undertaker could feel just how deep he was getting. Hips rolling, thrusts slow and sensual…It was romantic; this reunion of theirs.

"Ahh, my Jase," said the reaper against the smooth skin of his neck. He made sure to keep his thrusts gentle, yet deep. His excitement and pleasure was colored with a deep, abiding love that he was certain he'd never felt for anyone else, before.

The doll reached out, twisting as he hugged Chronus, kissing him long and deep as he felt a gentle throb building in his gut. "Chronus….Chron-us, I love…you…" he moaned against his lips between kisses

"The feeling's quite mutual, my love," he responded in a low, breathy murmur. The slow buildup of their passion made his entire body sing with delight, and he knew the steadily approaching climax was going to be spectacular for both of them.

"Mmmn…" Jase reconnected the kiss, almost desperately as he was rocked back and forth with his lover's thrusts, kissing him deeper as he felt himself being brought to the very edge of his limit, "I-I'm..!" crying out his husband's name, Jase finally reached his climax. Evidence of it spilling out onto himself and the sheets of the bed.

The reaper smiled blissfully as Jase's body clenched rhythmically around his thrusting length. His smile soon turned into a slack-jawed expression of helpless euphoria as his peak claimed him. It began normal, but it intensified by the second and soon, he was holding his husband tight and shaking with the intensity of it. It went on longer than normal, and he filled Jase to the brim and beyond with his seed.

"Aahh! J-Jase...sweet heavens..."

He was finally spent, and he collapsed against him. Holding him closely, the reaper breathed a relieved sigh of gratitude.

Jase moaned and rolled over to face his lover, slipping his arms around his husband, relaxing against his cool chest, breathing in his scent and enjoying the moment as he paid no mind to the messy feel of his lover's seed leaking out between his legs. With a content sigh, Jase nuzzled his lover, his eyes closed. "…Worth it…worth the long wait…" he sighed.

"I'd wait an eternity if I had to," sighed Undertaker happily, "to do that with you. I'm bloody grateful we didn't have to wait that long, but seven years did feel like a thousand to me."

He kissed Jase's forehead and rubbed his back. "Time used to pass by so quickly for me, but in that facility, every minute without you seemed to go on forever."

"Hmm…" Jase smiled as he hummed, "I may not yet know what it's like to live forever…but seven years felt like a lifetime, it seems…" he opened his eyes and looked up into the ancient's eyes, "With any luck we'll never be forced apart that long again…" he pulled himself up along his body and pressed a kiss to his lips, "…I'm glad you didn't leave me to die in that dusty old chapel…"

The reaper smiled. "And I'm glad you found it in your heart to love death, my dear."

"Someone had to…you needed me…and I needed you—even if we didn't know it…"

Undertaker revisited the course of their relationship in his mind, again marveling over how one diminutive, dying priest managed to turn his life around so completely. He hadn't been 'all there' for most of his life after defecting from the reaper organization, but he could acknowledge now that he'd started himself on a downward spiral into true madness, when he started on the path to learning how to raise the dead. While he honestly couldn't say he was 'reformed' in the common definition of the word, that fateful meeting in the chapel certainly kept him from pushing past the point of no return.

"I was never a big believer in fate before, he whispered, gazing into his husband's lovely eyes, "but you're living proof of it. We were fated for each other, love. I've never been more certain of that than I am now."

He cupped Jase's chin and kissed him lovingly.

* * *

  **-End-**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We really hope you all enjoyed this, and thank you so much for reading. It means a lot. :3
> 
> This is the last chapter, however, Xen and I are working on a sequel which is currently seven chapters long. Once it gets further along, I'll start posting it. It'll be titled "Embracing Sin" (Much like the title of the lovely painting by K-Koji) Below, I've put the basic info on the sequel as it stands now. Some of this may change. I also included a small exert from the first chapter. Please note that it is unedited and may have some mistakes in it, still. It's just a little something to catch your interest, maybe. :3
> 
> Part Two: Embracing Sin  
> (?? Chapters)  
> Just when Undertaker and Jase settle down and have their lives together to look forward to without worry of having to pick up and run at any moment, Heaven makes an attack on Paris, aimed to cleans the city of sin and abominations...but what is their true target? 
> 
> Chronus didn't waste another moment. He adjusted his hat and stepped out into it, hastily closing the barn door before sprinting for the cottage. He made it through the front door and he removed the outer layer of his robes once he was inside, hanging them on the coat rack.  
> "Good thing I had you come inside," he informed his lover as he joined him in the small dining room and took his seat at the table. He began to cut into his sausage. "That's no ordinary rain coming down."
> 
> “What do you mean, Chronus?” Jase asked, glancing out the window at the rain hitting the glass pane, the distraction causing him to spill the hot tea he’d been pouring for his lover. The scolding hot water running over his small hand out of the cup. He couldn’t feel the temperature, but the wetness caught his attention quickly and he gasped, hurrying to clean the mess.
> 
> The mortician quickly reached out to lay a hand over Jase's smaller one, using death's chill to cool it and sooth the burn even though the doll couldn't feel it. He watched Jase mop up the spilled tea with a towel and he glanced out the window. "It's not natural rain. There's a breach in the planes, if this is anything like the last time I saw rain like this. I call it angel piss."


End file.
